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

Two pretty famous and radical ideas come from today’s daf!

1) Rabbi Pineḥas said in the name of Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish: The Torah that the Holy One, Blessed be He, gave to Moses on Mount Sinai was given to him as white fire engraved with black fire. Black fire on white fire, the letters: black fire, the white fire: everything else. So why is the page described as white fair? It’s the spaces in between, the unsaid – the interpretations, the translations, the way we insert ourselves generations later into the tet – that’s the white fire.

2) That there were 4 tablets in the Ark of the covenant (cited 4 times on our daf): And four tablets were placed in the Ark, two tablets were whole and two tablets were broken, as it is written: “And I will write on the tablets the words that were on the first tablets which you did break, and you shall put them in the Ark” (Deuteronomy 10:2). The juxtaposition of these phrases teaches that the broken tablets were also placed in the Ark. . . 2) And four tablets were placed in the Ark, two tablets were whole and two tablets were broken. What is the source for the fact that the broken tablets were placed in the Ark? As it is written: “And I will write on the tablets the words that were on the first tablets which you did break, and you shall put them in the Ark” (Deuteronomy 10:2). . .

This gives space for a lot of interpretations. Why would the broken tablets be carried with the whole? There are too many ideas to put on one page, and some I am sure we will get to in the next 6.5 years (including the idea that all of Torah and oral Torah were on the first set and only the ten commandments were on the second) . . . so I will share my personal favorite take on the broken tablets – that if we want to be close to God, or anyone for that matter, we need to be willing to share our brokenness and imperfection. We all fail. We have all been hurt. We carry it with us wherever we go. Our brokenness is as precious as the Torah we have to give – it is a piece of the Torah we have to give. We should let both the ideal, and the honest and true, lead us in life.

You may have heard of Maimonides ladder of charity. Here they are from the Jewish virtual library (https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/eight-levels-of-charitable-giving):

On an ascending level, they are as follows:

8. When donations are given grudgingly.

7. When one gives less than he should, but does so cheerfully.

6. When one gives directly to the poor upon being asked.

5. When one gives directly to the poor without being asked.

4. Donations when the recipient is aware of the donor’s identity, but the donor still doesn’t know the specific identity of the recipient.

3. Donations when the donor is aware to whom the charity is being given, but the recipient is unaware of the source.

2. Giving assistance in such a way that the giver and recipient are unknown to each other. Communal funds, administered by responsible people are also in this category.

1. The highest form of charity is to help sustain a person before they become impoverished by offering a substantial gift in a dignified manner, or by extending a suitable loan, or by helping them find employment or establish themselves in business so as to make it unnecessary for them to become dependent on others.

Today’s daf deals largely with level #2, when neither the giver nor the one receiving knows.

MISHNA There were two special chambers in the Temple, one called the chamber of secret gifts and the other one called the chamber of vessels. In the chamber of secret gifts, sin-fearing people put money secretly and poor people of noble descent support themselves from it secretly.

The Gemara now goes into a slew of stories of those who give tzedakah (and those who do not). Rabbi Ya’akov bar Idi and Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Naḥman were supporters of the indigent. And so as not to embarrass the poor, they would give a dinar to Rabbi Ḥama, father of Rabbi Yehoshaya, and he would give it to impoverished others.

Sounds good right? But, how do we know he is giving the money to those in need?

The Gemara similarly relates with regard to Rabbi Zekharya, son-in-law of Rabbi Levi, that everyone would malign him. They would say that he does not need charity, and yet he takes money from the charity fund. After he died, they investigated and found that he had discreetly been distributing all the charity money he received to others in actual need.

They spoke ill of a man who, it turns out, gave charity in a very high manner. Oy! other examples are given, as well the lesson that, when you are going to give tzedakah you are protected, as well as this adage: Rabbi Yona said: Happy is he who gives to the poor, is not written here; rather: “Happy is he who considers the poor” (Psalms 41:2) is written, which indicates that one must consider his actions carefully and act wisely in giving charity. This is referring to one who scrutinizes the mitzva of charity and considers how to perform it in the most appropriate manner to avoid embarrassing the poor.

But what happens to those who do not give? Or who delay their gift? Here is just one example:

Naḥum of Gam Zo was bringing a gift to his father-in-law’s house when a man afflicted with boils met him on the way. He said to Naḥum: Give me charity from that which you have brought with you. Naḥum said to him: When I return, I will give you something. After visiting his father-in-law’s house, Naḥum returned and found the man dead. He realized that when he had first met him, this boil-afflicted man must have been on the verge of death from starvation. And in his guilt over failing to provide immediate relief for his hunger, Naḥum said about the boil-afflicted man: The eyes that saw you, i.e., my own eyes, and did not give you food should be blinded; the hands that did not stretch forth to give you food should be cut off; the feet that did not run to give you food should be broken. And later all of these calamities actually befell him.

Wowzers!

The lesson? Be generous, both in your assessment of others, and in your giving of gifts to others.

Yesterday’s Mishnah listed 15 righteous persons who worked in the Temple service at some point. Much of today’s daf deals with stories around these people, including those who never gave away their secrets as to how to perform their job and never used their skill for private purposes (like baking show bread and creating incense that rose in a perfect tower). But the first person today’s daf describes is my gem, because what happened to him is tragic and raises the question fo why do bad things happen to good poeple?

The mishna states that Neḥunya was the well digger. The Gemara explains that he would dig wells and caves, where rainwater would collect, for pilgrims to use on their way to Jerusalem for the Festivals. And he knew which rock contains water, and which rock contains fissures in which water may be found, and how far those fissures extend. This would enable him to calculate how deep he had to dig to reach water. Rabbi Eliezer said: And his son died of thirst.

The irony is intense – a man who spent his time making sure that pilgrims coming to Jerusalem would never lack for water, a man who could look at the desert, at a rock, and see where to dig to find a well, had to live to see his son die of thirst . . .

Why? Why do bad things happen to good people? And seemingly good things happen to bad?

The Gemara discusses how God relates to sinners. Rabbi Ḥanina said: Whoever says that the Merciful One overlooks the punishment due to sinners, his intestines will be overlooked, i.e., cease functioning. The reason sinners often “appear” to go unpunished is rather that God extends His patience with evildoers to give them a chance to repent, but eventually He collects His due and punishes the wicked.

But what of a good person? What of Nehunya?

The Gemara explains the harsh judgment inflicted on the righteous Neḥunya. Rabbi Aḥa said that it is written: “. . . and His surroundings storm [nis’ara] mightily” (Psalms 50:3). The Hebrew spelling of the word nis’ara is very similar to the word sa’ara, hair. This hints that God is exacting with the righteous, who are close to Him and can be called His surroundings, up to a hairsbreadth. Even slight deviations from the proper path can elicit punishment. Rabbi Yosei said: This idea is derived not through that source, but rather from that which is written about God: “And dreadful is He upon all of His surroundings” (Psalms 89:8), which indicates that His dread is upon those close to Him, i.e., the righteous, more than upon those distant from Him, i.e., the sinful.

So, the daf’s explanation is that, the closer you are to God, the more you will be punished for the slightest deviation?! Is that comforting? And what did this man do to deserve his son’s death?

As a teacher, it is true that we expect more out of the students who are superior. We may be picky about things that a poorer student would be able to submit without comment. The more you excel in an area, the more will be expected out of you. The better you are, the more the little flaws show. But it’s one thing to point out how a 98% can become a 100%, to show how to take an artform to an even higher level – and it’s completely something different to fail the kid for not reaching her potential, or in this case, kill the man’s son . . .

I find the rabbi’s explanation lacking – they cannot even find a little thing that Nehuya has done, let alone something so egregious that this would be a fitting punishment. I think they know it is unsatisfying, and so they switch to a similar story where someone with the same skill almost loses his daughter to drowning on the day of her wedding (again ironic that a man with the skill of finding water in a desert or in rocks would lose his child to drowning) – only to have her be saved. In this story, Rabbi Pineḥas asks the question we all have as a reader when he said: Is it possible that he honors his Creator with water, and yet his Creator strikes him with water? And then, a miracle happens and the girl washes to shore alive.

We see that the Gemara needs to deal with the reality that bad things happen to good people, and cannot stomach the idea that God would let that happen.

And yet, it does.

Yes Shekalim! Bringing on the gems! I will give you a quick taste of three, yes three, gems. . .

Gem #1 comes as the Mishna lists the proper names of Priests who held certain functions in the Temple, one is Petahya. The mishna states that Petaḥya was responsible for the pairs of birds. The Gemara mentions some of the talents of this Petaḥya. Come and see how great was the skill of that man! He could open, (play on the Hebrew word petach) i.e., elucidate, difficult topics and interpret them. As mentioned in the mishna, he understood all seventy languages. So, who is this magical man who understands every language (including understanding the deaf and mute)? The Gemara exclaims: Petaḥya is Mordecai from the book of Esther. And why was he named called Petaḥya, which resembles the word for opening [petaḥ]? The reason is that he would open, i.e., elucidate, difficult topics and interpret them to the people, and because he knew all seventy languages known at the time.

That’s right! Mordecai from the book of Esther is imagined to be 1) sitting on the Sanhedrin and 2) having had served in the Temple in Jerusalem! That means he would have been exiled from the Temple, made a life and strategically risen (himself and his niece) to power in Persia, then returned to ISrael to help rebuild the state and sat on the Sanhedrin. What a guy!

Gem #2 is an exercise in humility. Whereas we live in a society that worships youth and the young think they are so much smarter than the old, the Talmud values the opposite:

Rabbi Ḥaggai said in the name of Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman: The former Sages, i.e., the scholars of earlier generations, metaphorically plowed and planted, weeded, cleared thorns, hoed, harvested, gathered sheaves into a pile, threshed the sheaves, winnowed the threshed grain, separated the bad grain form the good, ground the remainder into flour, sifted the flour in a sieve, kneaded the dough, smoothed the surface of the unbaked loaves with liquid, and baked the bread. They prepared everything so that we should be able to grasp Torah concepts; and yet, after all that, we have nothing to eat, as we are still unable to understand the Torah properly.

Dope metaphor – those who came before us did all the work! they served us Torah on a platter – and we still don’t know what they’re saying!

Rabbi Abba bar Zemina said in the name of Rabbi Ze’eira: If the former generations were akin to angels, we are akin to humans; and if they were akin to humans, we are akin to donkeys. Rabbi Mana said: At that hour, when the previous statement was issued, they also said: We are not even comparable to the female donkey of Rabbi Pineḥas ben Yair.

So, now we have to ask ourselves – who is this donkey? Gem #3 – the most machmir (stringent) donkey in history:

§ The Gemara explains the reference to this particular donkey. The donkey of Rabbi Pineḥas ben Yair was stolen by robbers one night. It was kept hidden by them for three days, and yet it did not eat anything. After three days, they reconsidered and decided to return it. They said: Let’s get it out of here, so that it shouldn’t die in our possession and leave a stench in our cave. When they set it free it went and stood by its master’s gate and began braying. Rabbi Pineḥas said to the members of his household: Open up for that poor creature, which has gone three days without eating anything. They opened the gate for it, and it entered Rabbi Pineḥas’ courtyard. He told them: Give it something to eat. They placed barley before it, but it would not eat. They said to him: Rabbi, it will not eat. He said to them: Has the barley been tithed so that it is fit to eat? They replied: Yes. He then asked them: And have you separated their doubtfully tithed produce? Did you tithe the grain about which there is doubt as to whether it has been tithed properly? They replied: Didn’t you teach us the following, Rabbi: One who purchases grain for feeding an animal, or flour for processing animal hides, or oil for lighting a lamp, is exempt from separating doubtfully tithed produce? There is no need to separate tithes from doubtfully tithed produce to feed a donkey. He said to them: What can we do for that poor creature, which is very strict with itself and will not eat even from doubtfully tithed produce, despite this exemption? And they therefore separated tithes from the doubtfully tithed produce, and the donkey finally ate the barley grains.

YES!!!!!!!! Tell your children this story. Amazing. The donkey who refused to eat, not only unkosher food, not only untitled foods, but needed his food to be doubly tithed. The clear lesson? If a jackass is so careful with what she eats and following the laws – you should be too!

It’s raining gems. . .

We don’t often think about to whom/where we would like to leave our property when we die. It’s very rarely that we even take the time to go through what we have and decide what we want, what should be given away, and what trashed or recycled. Very often I see congregants overwhelmed when they have to figure out what to do with all of a loved-one’s things after a death. It’s hard.

Today’s daf has a case that seems clear-cut. The Mishnah discusses a case in which a person consecrated all of his possessions to The Temple. Simple – the Temple gets everything, but not so simple as not everything can be used in Temple service . . . Included among this person’s possessions were both male and female animals. Now we have to figure out what to do? Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua adiscuss/disagree about what is done with the animals. Rabbi Eliezer says that males should be sold for the needs of burnt-offerings, i.e., to individuals who will sacrifice them as such. And any females, since they cannot be brought as burnt-offerings, should be sold for the needs of peace-offerings, i.e., to individuals who will sacrifice them as such. And their monetary value that is received from their sale is allocated with the rest of his property for Temple maintenance.

Rabbi Yehoshua holds that males should themselves be sacrificed as burnt-offerings, and any females, since they cannot be brought as burnt-offerings, should be sold for the needs of peace-offerings, i.e., to individuals who will sacrifice them as such, and their monetary value that is received from their sale should be used to purchase and bring burnt-offerings.

According to both opinions, the rest of the possessions, which are not suitable for sacrificial use, are allocated for Temple maintenance.

(So the difference is Rabbi Eliezer say the males need to be sold as well as the females whereas Rabbi Yehoshua says only females need to be sold.

I think the reason I like this is because of what happens to everything else – all the items that cannot be used towards the Temple – they are sold and the money is used to offset Temple expenses. I think I like this because the knee-jerk reaction might be to say – what good is all this stuff? To assume the Temple would not want it. Here we see how a gift, even one that may not be a perfect fit, can still be used for good.

Today’s gem is that the daf deals with something I have often wondered – can you invest money that has been dedicated to the Temple? I think about investing in stocks – isn’t that a glorified form of gambling? Yet, money does make money – and more money for the Temple seems a good thing . . .

R. Akiva does not permit it, fearing losses to the Temple but says, if someone were to give only profits from an investment to the Temple, and would personally absorb any loss – well, that’s okay!

R. Mana issues a similar ruling regarding the funds of orphans. Then we get R. Chiyya who is entrusted with the funds of orphans and absorbs any losses personally, while giving any profits to the orphans.

so, we learn that we cannot invest funds given to the Temple in the market or another kind of venture, however, we can give profits from such ventures toward the Temple and towards tzedakah and other acts of gemilut hasadim.

To those who think this gives the green light to gamble – just know that even if you lost the money, you would still owe your half shekel! So, my lesson is not to gamble with money used for holy purposes, and no matter how you earn your money – you should always be looking for ways to have it do good in the world.

One of the beautiful things about the half shekel is that every person donates the exact same amount. It’s an equalizer – everyone has an equal claim to the Temple. But, anyone who works in a congregation or non-for-profit knows that we cannot survive on membership dues alone. So, what of those who have the means and desire to go above and beyond?

In the Mishnah on the top of today’s daf (bottom of yesterdays), Rabbi Yosei and the Sages argue over whether an individual is allowed to donate an item for use as a public offering, such as for the public Minchah offering of the Korban ha’Omer (which we are counting right now, and will be until Shavuot). Rabbi Yosei argues that an individual may donate a public offering. The Sages hold that the public offering must come from the property of the public and not from an individual. The Gemara cites the Mishnah in Ta’anit (4:4) that says that people used to give private donations of wood for use with the sacrifices: And these families took the initiative and donated wood from their own property and gave it to the community; and they offered communal offerings with it. And the prophets among them stipulated with them that, in the future, even if the chamber were full of wood, if these families took the initiative and donated wood from their own property, the offerings would be brought using only theirs first.

. . . Rabbi Yosei says: One who so desires may even volunteer his services and guard the grain as an unpaid bailee.

. . . It was taught in a baraita: In the case of a woman who made a tunic, one of the priestly vestments, for her son to wear while he serves in the Temple, the tunic is valid provided that she completely transfers ownership of the tunic to the community.

So, can we give more than is asked? The ruling goes with Rabbi Yosei – so yes. However, when we give, it needs to be without strings. We don’t give to receive payment, to receive credit, or to somehow maintain ownership – if we give, we must give fully and freely.

It’s a great lesson in how to still allow others to give more, so we can properly maintain sacred spaces (and non-for-profits) but that we should not let someone’s purse strings control what happens in the sacred space. Gifts should be that – gifts, not bargaining tools.

Oh what a gem on today’s page! If you have ever misplaced your emotions, this one is for you. If you have ever had someone blow up at you, only to learn that their anger had nothing to do with you – but that other things were going on in their life – this is for you as well.

Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Kahana wished to clarify the issue and said to him ( Rav Beivai ) : Up to a quarter-log of blood is pure, but more than that is impure? Or did the Sages rule that the blood of a carcass is never ritually impure, whatever the measure may be?

Here comes Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Kahana, asking an innocent question, something Jews are encouraged to do. Now see the response:

Rav Beivai kicked him! Rabbi Zerika said to him, i.e., to Rav Beivai: You kicked him because he asked you a question? He said to him: I kicked him because my mind was unsettled.

Oh! How often does this happen in life! Someone reacts inappropriately because their mind is preoccupied with something else! So, what could have Rav Beivai so upset?

Rav Beivai tries to explain his conduct: As Rabbi Ḥanan said: “And your life shall hang in doubt before you” (Deuteronomy 28:66); this is one who buys wheat for a year, who has no financial security with regard to the following year. “And you shall fear night and day”; this is one who buys small amounts of wheat from a vendor, with the attendant concern that he might not have enough for the morrow. “And you shall have no assurance of your life”; this is one who buys bread from the baker [paltor] and cannot afford to buy wheat in advance to assure even one future meal.

Rav Beivai concluded: And I rely on the baker.

He is hungry, food insecure. He is poor and does not knw where his next mal will come from – so, he was distracted, angry, and misplaced his emotions by kicking someone who just came to learn from him.

Wow. Two phenomenal lessons – 1) when you are reacting inappropriately to what is happening, you need to step back and ask yourself what is going on. Along with that, when someone over reacts to your own actions, perhaps they have other things going on that you don’t know about. And 2) Ein Kemach, ein Torah – with no bread there is no Torah. Hunger and food insecurity are huge problems, especially now, and when people are hungry, their minds are not clear. They are certainly in no state to learn or teach Torah.

So, I hope this daf inspires you to check your own reactions, and to feed the hungry.

Well, we are in a new book of Talmud, but we have the treat of discussing Pesach again on today’s daf! In response to a fabulous Mishna that says that the collectors of taxes (half shekels) cannot wear clothing items with pockets or hems, etc. where they might be suspected of stealing away a few shekels for themselves, the question of quantities comes up – and the rabbis debate what counts for the four cups of wine: What if it’s sweet wine? What if it’s spiced wine? What if it’s cooked? Diluted? Undiluted?

They all count, as long as it’s 4 glasses.

A modern reader may wonder what those who cannot drink alcohol should do – well, it’s not a new phenomenon! Today’s gem comes when a woman sees a rabbi whose face is glowing from learning and having a good time at the Seder and she assumes he is drunk . . not so:

Rabbi Yona said: One fulfills his obligation with cooked wine (weaker wine where the alcohol may have burned off). The Gemara notes that Rabbi Yona conforms to his own reasoning, since when Rabbi Yona would drink four cups of wine for Passover he would have to wrap his head with a bandage until the festival of Shavuot, in order to relieve the headache that the wine caused him. It gave him migraines! He had a bad reaction, and so he did not drink 4 cups of alcoholic wine (I also get a headache from too much wine – so we all had grape juice at second Seder – I hear you Rabbi Yona).

The Gemara relates that it once happened that a certain Roman matron [matronita] saw that Rabbi Yona’s face was shining. She said: Old man, old man, one of three things must apply to you. You are either drunk with wine, or else you lend money at interest, and owing to your comfortable income your face shines, or else you raise pigs, which provides you with large profits for little work. He cursed her and said to her: Let despair come upon that woman, as none of these three things apply to me. Rather, my face shines because my learning is with me and it lights my face, as this is what is written: “A man’s wisdom makes his face shine” (Ecclesiastes 8:1).

She thought he looked drunk, or that he swindled some money, because he looked so joyful, but the rabbi teaches us that we can achieve joy through learning – we don’t need anything bad for our bodies or bad for others to give us happiness.

I love this because 1) we don’t all need to drink 4 glasses of wine, especially if we would have a bad reaction. And 2) it reminds us that real joy comes from company and what you’re doing – not what you’re drinking.

I know I can be a square, but when my mom worried that I might do drugs because I was being pressured by my friends back in high school, I would say to her – if I need to be high to make my friends seem like fun, then maybe I need new friends and not drugs.

We don’t need to be judgemental of those who partake – but we also don’t need to partake so as not to be judged.

Today’s Mishnah discusses how, if we collect money for any reason (to bury the dead, to free a captive, the give to the poor) we have to use that money for the specified reason. They questions becomes, what do we do if we have extra money?

This is a great lesson in and of itself, but my gem is the Gemara’s comment to this part of the Mishna: The leftover money collected for burying the dead must be allocated to burying the dead. The leftover money collected to bury or provide burial shrouds for a particular deceased person is given to his heirs. Rabbi Meir says: It is uncertain what should be done, and therefore the leftover money for the deceased should be placed in a safe place until Elijah comes and teaches what should be done. Rabbi Natan says: With the leftover money collected for a deceased person they build a monument [nefesh] on his grave for him.

The Gemara states: Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says: One does not construct monuments for the graves of righteous people. The purpose of a monument is to remember the dead person, and Torah scholars do not need a monument, as their words of Torah that continue to be taught are their memorial.

I love this. what is the monument you are leaving behind? I am someone who frequents graveyards (it’s part of the job). But they are not crowded places. Even those with large headstones or monuments built in their honor are not likely to have many people see the monument and know who they were. But he lessons we teach, the lives we touch, the “Torah” we leave behind, that carries on.