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

Yoma means THE DAY and it refers to Yom Kippur. Our Mishnah tells of the preparations the pirest must make in order to be in the correct state of mind and purity for the important tasks of this incredible day. We learn that”

Seven days prior to Yom Kippur the Sages would remove the High Priest, who performs the entire Yom Kippur service, from his house to the Chamber of Parhedrin, a room in the Temple designated specifically for the High Priest during that period. And they would designate another priest in his stead to replace him lest a disqualification due to impurity or another circumstance beyond his control prevent him from entering the Temple on Yom Kippur. Rabbi Yehuda says: The Sages would even designate another wife for him lest his wife die. . .

Gemara asks: From where in the Torah are these matters derived? Rav Minyomi bar Ḥilkiya said that Rabbi Maḥseya bar Idi said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said they are derived from Aaron and his sons, who remained in the Tabernacle for seven days prior to performing the service in the Tabernacle on the eighth day of their inauguration, as the verse states: “As has been done this day, so the Lord has commanded to do, to make atonement for you” (Leviticus 8:34), meaning that this mitzva of sequestering was not limited to the days prior to the dedication of the Tabernacle; rather, it applies to future generations as well. (We read this in last week’s Torah portion!)

I derive a few gems from this. The first is that we should take important work seriously – especially what we do on behalf of the community. The High priest must ritually, spiritually, and mentally prepare for the huge responsibility he has. My second gem is that we should not let self-importance go to our heads – yes, the High Priest is in a very important position and the whole community is relying on him – but he can also be replaced. There is always someone waiting in the wings. (As Beyoncé put it, “I could have another you in a minute – Matter fact, he’ll be here in a minute.”)

And the third gem is that we should have a back up plan – but that plan can only go so far. When Rabbi Yehuda says we should have a back up wife for the High Priest, just in case, the Rabbis said to Rabbi Yehuda: If so, that this is a concern, there is no end to the matter! They rule that one back up is enough. We can prepare, but after that, we have to just trust.

Excited to be starting a new tractate! Especially when I get to quote Beyoncé right out of the gate!

What a sad ending to the tractate. Today, the Gemara becomes very aware that we are no longer living in a time when the Temple is standing, and, therefore, all of these sacrifices and offerings can no longer be offered up. The title of this book – shekalim – refers to the half shekel tax, however, the mishna stated that the obligation to give half-shekels each year (and to offer the first fruits) is only practiced when the Temple is standing.

So we learn that a convert at the time of the Temple was obligated to offer two doves or pigeons as the conclusion of the conversion process. It was taught in a baraita: A convert who converts in the present day is obligated to set aside, in lieu of his pair of doves, a quarter-dinar of silver, for that is the cheapest price at which one can purchase them. Rabbi Shimon said: Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Zakkai voided that obligation due to the potential for a mishap, since that money would be consecrated and there is a high risk that it would be misused.

We cannot offer sacrifice, but we can give money – well, but once the money is designated for Temple use, it can’t go elsewhere. So, Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai voids the gift.

And if he violated this rule, and consecrated an item, or took a valuation vow, or consecrated an object for use by the priests or the Temple, or separated terumot or tithes, the clothing that was consecrated is burnt, the animal is destroyed. How is it destroyed? The door of its stall is locked in front of it and it dies by itself, of hunger, as it is prohibited to actively destroy consecrated items. And the money that was consecrated goes to the Dead Sea, i.e., is abandoned where no one will ever find it.

So harsh. So wasteful. But my gem is in what happens next. Rabbi Yodeh Antodarya takes such a hopeful suggests: he should set it aside until the Temple is rebuilt. Perhaps the Temple will be rebuilt again as at first, and the collection of the Temple Treasury chamber will be collected from the new collection in its proper time on the first of Nisan.

Such hope! That the Temple will be rebuilt this year – so put the money aside!!! We are such a hopeful people. We are a people whose ideal time is in the future, when the Messiah comes, and it’s just around the corner. . .

yet this is not where the book ends. It ends with: Rav Hamnuna and Rav Adda bar Ahava said in the name of Rav: The halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Shimon that they are not consecrated.

It ends with a dose of reality. Don’t count on the Temple being rebuilt. We may pray for it every day – but we don’t live as if it will happen anytime soon.

And perhaps that’s a good way to approach the world. With hope, and prayer, and preparation – but without expectation. Hoping without letting our hopes cloud our vision so that we still see reality as stark and as imperfect as it is.

I was often sick as a child. I had severe asthma and allergies and yet lived with a smoker and two cats – not a good combination. I remember once throwing up and going to the doctor. He could easily see that my nose was running around the clock from my environment. He asked me what I did when snot, instead of coming out of my nose, ran down the back of my throat. I said I guessed I just swallowed it. He said that was why I threw up and told me that I needed to learn to spit instead.

I know, you’re grossed out. As you should be. But today’s daf covers if spit, found on the sidewalk, is considered to be pure or impure – so groww is the theme of the day. The Mishna states:

All the spittle that is found in Jerusalem is ritually pure, except for spittle found in the upper marketplace.

So, why was it impure in the upper marketplace? The Gerama explains: Rabbi Avin in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi explains: A fortress [katzran] of gentiles was there.

So, while we would assume that Jews who had come into Jerusalem during the time of a festival would have gone through the correct proceedings to insure they are ritually pure, we can’t assume that about non-Jews. So, steer clear of their spit on the sidewalk. But surely, you are thinking, there are other snotty Jews who are impure! How do we know? Well, they devised a way of walking as stated by the Misha and explained by the Gemara:

Rabbi Yosei says: On all the other days of the year, i.e., any day that is not on one of the three pilgrim Festivals, Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot, spittle that is found in the middle of the street is ritually impure, and spittle that is found on the sides of the street is ritually pure. According to Rabbi Yosei, it was common for people who were ritually impure to be present in the streets of Jerusalem. They would be careful to walk in the middle of the street, while the ritually pure who wished to remain so would walk on the sides. Therefore, it is reasonable to presume that spittle found in the middle of the street is from one who is impure, while spittle found on the side of the street is from one who is pure. But during the time of the Festival, when most of the people in Jerusalem were there for the Festival and were ritually pure, the spittle found in the middle of the street was ritually pure, and that found on the sides of the street was ritually impure. The difference is due to the fact that at the time of the Festival, the ritually impure minority moves to the sides of the streets.

Okay, so you’re probably wondering why I am talking about this? Besides knowing it is turning some people’s stomachs – it turns out that spitting truly is a dirty habit. It has been known to spread disease (it currently is spreading Covid, but more commonly in tiny droplets instead of luggies on the sidewalk). At the turn of the 20th century, there was a tuberculosis outbreak in many US cities. One way these cities tried to ebb the tide was by making spitting on the sidewalk of street (unless you went to the gutter) illegal. In fact, this law is still on the books in California where it is illegal to spit within 5 feet of another person!

I thought it was really interesting to learn about how our ancestors tried to avoid communicable disease spread by spitting then, and how we are doing it now.

But if that wasn’t gross enough for you, here is a bloody story about those gentiles in the upper marketplace getting ready to feed the lions for a gladiator battle:

Rabbi Ḥanina said: Once they were killing wild donkeys in Jerusalem, to feed the lions in the circus (see Menaḥot 103b), and the pilgrims coming to Jerusalem to celebrate the Festival were wading in blood up to their ankles from the large amount of blood coming from the wild donkeys. And they came before the Sages to find out if they had been rendered ritually impure, and they, the Sages, did not say anything, as the blood of an animal carcass does not render one ritually impure, even though the carcass itself does. Where did this story take place? Rabbi Shimon bar Abba said in the name of Rabbi Ḥanina: There was a gentile, i.e., Roman, fortress there, in the upper marketplace of Jerusalem, and that was where they were killing the wild donkeys.

Today’s daf holds up a mirror for our society today and shows how incredibly wasteful we are. Much of 7:2 has to do with what we do when we find a scrap of meat and the Gemara is doing all it can to permit the finder to eat it (although Rav is the exception as he comes up with crazy ways to explain how that piece of meat you just dropped might not be the same piece of meat you are picking up). We have laws about trying to return lost items, but this halakhah focuses on what we do when we find something and the owner does not expect to get it back:

The Gemara explains: Because of found property, as it was taught in a baraita: One who rescues an article from a lion, from an enemy army [gayyis], from rocks in the sea [shunit hayam], or from rocks in a river, or from a large public street [isratya], or from a large public square; in all these cases, these articles belong to him, even if they have an identifying mark on them, because the owners have given up hope of ever recovering them.

One example: It is further related that a roasted goat was once found in the street in the town of Gufta, and the Rabbis permitted it to be eaten based on two considerations: First, because of found property; that is to say, they allowed the finder to keep it. Secondly, because of the majority of traffic, i.e., the majority of people passing through that street were Jews.

Yes, they found an entire roasted goat in the street. And, they ate it.

According to NRDC, approximately 40% of food in the United States is wasted.

“Households toss limp vegetables. People are confused by food date labels. Restaurants often serve massive portions and trash leftovers. Grocery stores overstock their shelves to maintain an image of abundance. Farmers are unable to sell produce that doesn’t look perfect.

“At the same time, 1 in 8 Americans struggles to put food on the table.”

I look to the Gemara, where people are so hungry that they don’t want to let meat that has fallen in the streets go to waste – where Sages too want to permit the meat – and I think of us and our waste. Shame on us. Shame on us for wasting such precious resources. For taking the lives of God’s creatures and not savouring every morsel. For being wasteful while so many are wanting.

Is the meat kosher? Well, kosher means “fit” . . . and the way we waste is anything but kosher.

Today’s gem is a little message about not trying to get your revenge out on others . . .

A certain man in Tzippori was walking and he wanted to buy a piece of meat [kufad] from the butcher, but the butcher did not give him the meat, as they were at odds with each other. The man asked a certain Roman to buy the meat on his behalf, and he brought him the meat. The man later said to the butcher: Did I not in the end take the meat from you against your will? The butcher said to him: Did I not give him the non-kosher meat of a carcass, and so the meat you received from him was not kosher?

Love this! Such drama, such bait and switch! So true to life. It reminds of two great scenes, one from TV, the other from film: Seinfeld’s soup Nazi and his “no soup for you!” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryNxl-lpOME ); and the Battle of Wits from the Princess Bride (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMz7JBRbmNo). The first because of the butcher not giving food out of spite, and the second because of the two trying to outwit each other. So, what do the rabbis do? How do they rule in the case of this meat? Did he eat something unkosher and therefor need to repent/offer a sacrifice?

Rabbi Yirmeya said in the name of Rabbi Ḥanina: An incident like this came before Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, who said about this: It is not within his power to prohibit all the butcher shops [makkulin] of Tzippori on that day; since the majority of meat shops in that city belong to Jews, the butcher’s claim that he gave the Roman non-kosher meat is not to be believed.

So, the really, at the end of the day, neither party makes out well for their spiteful acts. The man who tricked the butcher ends up being tricked in return. And the butcher tries to trick the man, but to no real consequence.

Lesson? Get over it people. (And this makes for good comedy.)

“If you don’t have enough for the whole class, no one can have any.” Remember that from school? The importance of sharing? Everyone getting the same? (Followed by “You get what you get and you don’t get upset.”)

We get a bit of that on today’s daf:

The Mishna describes how there were thirteen collection horns (bins) for the temple. Six horns were designated for communal free-will offerings.

The Mishna asks: With regard to the money designated for communal free-will offerings, what would they do with this money? The Mishna answers that they used it to purchase animals for burnt-offerings, as the meat from these offerings was offered on the altar to God and the hides were given to the priests.

So, the priests benefit from the collection as their family can use the hides. But why 6? We get three opinions:

1. Ḥizkiya said: There six horns correspond to the six extended patrilineal families of priests who served each week in the Temple. There was one collection horn for each family, to prevent quarrels among the priests.
2. Bar Pedaya said: The six horns correspond to the six types of animals from which burnt-offerings can be brought: Bulls, calves, goats, rams, kids, and lambs. Each collection horn was for the funds designated for a particular type of animal.
3. Shmuel said: They correspond to the six obligatory offerings whose leftover funds were used for the purchase of burnt-offerings: (1) Pairs of birds offered in the purification ritual of a zav, pairs of birds of a zava; (2) pairs of birds of a woman after childbirth; (3) sin-offerings; (4) guilt-offerings; (5) meal-offerings of a sinner; and (6) the tenth part of an ephah brought each day by the High Priest as a meal-offering.

The gem comes from Hizkiya – that there were 6 priestly families and we need things to be fair. The Gemara in Menachos (107b) adds that the reason why each priestly family needed its own donation box was so that the priests would not fight with one another over the money that was donated for the sacrifices. If there would have been only one box/horn for all of them, then each priestly family might suspect the others of taking more than their share of the money in order to bring more sacrifices from which they would gain more hides for themselves. So that’s why we see on today’s daf that the money donated for sacrifices was divided into six equal portions, each of which was placed into a different horn/box.

“If you don’t have enough for the whole class, no one can have any.”

We may grow up, but our sense of what is fair and right remains in tact. If the priests serving the Temple needed to make sure things were fair, it’s not too much for us to want the same.

A great story and a great one liner to share from today’s daf: The Gemara relates that you find at the time that Nebuchadnezzar ascended to Eretz Yisrael to remove Jeconiah, Jehoiachin, from his throne, three months after he had crowned him instead of his father Jehoiakim. He came and settled in Dofnei of Antioch, where he set up his camp. And the Great Sanhedrin came out to greet him and said to him: Has the time come for this House to be destroyed? Is that the purpose for which you have arrived? He said to them: The king that I crowned to rule over you, give him to me as a captive and I will go.

They came and said to Jehoiachin, king of Judea: Nebuchadnezzar requires that you be taken into captivity to Babylon. When he heard this from them, he took the keys of the Temple and ascended to the roof of the Sanctuary and said before God: Master of the Universe, in the past we were faithful to You and Your keys were handed over to us. Now that we are not faithful, Your keys are handed over to You. Two amora’im dispute what happened next: One said that Jehoiachin took the keys and threw them up to the heavens and they have not yet descended from there. And one said that the likeness of a hand came and took them from his hand.

Wow, so the wicked Nebuchadnezzar wants to take captive the King he appointed, and so King Jehoiachin throws the keys to the Temple into the air and they magically disappear. Already a crazy story, but it gets crazier:

When all the nobles of [ḥorei] Judea saw what had occurred, they went up to the top of their roofs and fell and died. This is as it is written: “The burden concerning the Valley of Vision. What ails you now, that you have wholly gone up to the housetops, you that are full of uproar, a tumultuous city, a joyous town? Your slain are not slain with the sword, nor dead in battle” (Isaiah 22:1–2). Isaiah prophesies about Jerusalem, the Valley of Vision, which will be conquered by Nebuchadnezzar, crying: What ails you, Jerusalem, that your nobles will go up to the rooftops and fall to their deaths? Your dead will not be slain with the sword or in battle; they will die by falling from the rooftops.

Not necessarily a great lesson, but it does show how the rabbis look to prophetic texts as indicators of what will (or did) happen.

But the real gem is in this one liner: The Gemara answers that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: One does not mention miraculous events.

What does he mean? We just shared a miracle in the story above!? What he’s saying is that, “despite the fact that miracles occur, one should not rely on them, but rather act according to the laws of nature.”

My favorite expression of this idea? Pray as if everything depends on God. Live as if everything depends on you.

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.