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

Welcome to a new tractate! Two gems today, one on the mishnah, and one in the gemara.

In the mishnah we read, MISHNA: On the evening [or] of the fourteenth of the month of Nisan, one searches for leavened bread in his home by candlelight. This is the wonderful tradition called “bedikat chameitz” where you run through the house (traditionally with a feather and a candle) to find any chameitz crumbs (chameitz is any product with leavening). I set this up for my kids by hiding individually wrapped goodies around the house (sugary cereal and donut holes mainly) and sending them on a quest to find the goodies and eat them before Passover starts. This tradition is a gem in and of itself.

The gem in the Gemara comes within the discussion of the proper understanding of the Hebrew word “or” often translated as light. There is a debate about if this light means day time, or evening. And it lasts onto at least the next page. Within the discussion we get this verse, brought because it uses the word “or”:

The Gemara raises an objection: “A murderer rises with the or to kill the poor and needy; and in the night he is as a thief” (Job 24:14).

From the fact that the end of the verse states: “And in the night he is as a thief,” apparently the word or at the beginning of the verse is a reference to day, as the verse contrasts between night and or. The Gemara rejects this contention. There, this is what the verse is saying: If the matter is as clear to you as light, that the thief has come into the house prepared to take a life, he is a murderer; and the owner of the house may save himself by taking the life of the intruder. In that case, one may protect himself from a thief who breaks into his house, even by killing the intruder if necessary. And if the matter is as unclear to you as the night, he should be nothing more than a thief in your eyes and not a murderer; and therefore one may not save himself by taking the life of the thief. This verse is not referring to actual day and night; rather, it uses these terms as metaphors for certainty and uncertainty.

Why is this a gem? Well, there is a law in Judaism where you are allowed to kill someone who is pursuing you to kill you. That person falls into the category of “rodeph” a pursuer. I live in Florida where we have Stand Your Ground laws. These laws, on paper, were meant to be similar to this Gemara – that if someone breaks into your house with the intention of killing you – you can kill them and not worry about being tried for murder.

Unfortunately, what our law is missing is the second part of this Gemara – that if you are unsure that the person intends to kill you – you are not allowed to kill them. Meaning, if they just want to rob you, you are not allowed to take their life. The poseks expand this to say that, if you can injure but not kill and protect yourself, then injure, but don’t kill.

I am haunted by Stand Your Ground. When I first moved to Florida, there was a case where 4 kids were playing loud music from their car at a gas station. Michael Dunn, found them intimidating and shot at the car, murdering Jordan Davis who was just 17. He used the Stand Your Ground law as his defense. I couldn’t believe it. I thought of how I would blast music with my friends in high school as well. Would my children get shot one day by someone for blasting music? What kind of a state did I move to? Luckily, Dunn was convicted. But it took two trials!

That was hardly the last of it. We all remember how Trayvon Martin’s murderer chased him down in his own neighborhood and shot and killed this little boy, and walked away free because of Stand Your Ground.

Michael Drejka had argued he acted in self-defense, and initially invoked the controversial “stand your ground” law when he murdered Markeis McGlockton over a parking space.  

And two days ago, our governor, DeSantis, said he would expand the Stand Your Ground law to allow people to shoot looters.

1500 year old document is certainly calling out this horrific backwards law.

During Covid, we have all been spending more time at home. This has lead to more cooking, redecorating, reorganizing, in some cases moving, and cleaning for most Americans. At first, that did not happen for me. I found myself busier than ever, with less time to clean and organize. Then, I looked around and realized that my house could not continue to house 3-4 members working from home, and I would lose my mental balance, without some serious cleaning and reorganizing.

I started to watch “Tidying Up” with Mori Kondo on Netflix on my day off, and then, trying to tackle just one thing (which is not what she suggests, but it’s worked for me).

There is nothing more peaceful and meditative than a clean tidy space (and in my house, nothing more rare). It makes me feel safe . . . it helps me understand that connection between God and cleanliness. Back in Shabbat 50 we had it for ourselves, “It was taught in a baraita: A person must wash his face, his hands, and his feet every day for the sake of his Maker, as it is stated: “The Lord has made everything for His own purpose” (Proverbs 16:4).” Today, we have the lesson of the holiness of cleanliness for the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.

Commenting on the verse: “And the priests went into the inner part of the House of God, to cleanse it, and they brought out all the impurity that they found in the Temple of God into the courtyard of the House of God. And the Levites took it, to carry it out to the brook of Kidron” (II Chronicles 29:16). Our Talmudic Sages debate who cleans what in the Temple?

To understand this, you must first understand that there are three groups of people, the Cohenim (priests, i.e. descendants of Aaron), Levites (descendants of Levi, excluding Cohenim), and Israelites (everybody else). The Temple has an outer courtyard available to everyone, but as you move into the Temple, there are places that only Levites and Cohenim are allowed, then in the innermost sanctum, places only a Cohen is allowed (and then a place only the Cohen Gadol is allowed).

So, who can clean the Temple? And where?

One Sage, Rabbi Shimon Ben Nannas, maintains: As there was a change from the priests who removed the ritual impurity from the inner part of the Temple to the Levites, who took over in the courtyard, this indicates that there is no obligation to remove impurity in the courtyard, and consequently the priests are not required to do so. And one Sage, Rabbi Akiva, maintains: Up to where it is impossible for the task to be performed by the Levites, as it is prohibited for Levites to enter the Sanctuary, the priests took it out. However, now in the courtyard, where it is possible for the ritual impurity to be removed by the Levites, the priests no longer render themselves ritually impure. That is to say, the Levites removed it from any place where they were permitted to enter. The Sages taught in a baraita: It is permitted for everyone to enter the Sanctuary to build, to repair, or to remove impurity from inside. However, wherever possible, the mitzva is for these tasks to be performed by priests. If no priests are available, Levites enter; if no Levites are available, Israelites enter. In both cases, if they are ritually pure, yes, they may enter, but if they are impure, no, they may not enter the holy place.

I think about this in terms of cleaning. You can hire someone else to clean your house, but there are certain inner sanctums that only you can tackle. Only you can decide whether you will keep a shirt, donate it, or toss it (or upcycle it). Your jewelry drawer? Probably too valuable to let anyone else peek inside, let alone organize. As Mori Kondo would say, only you know what “sparks joy.”

When Mori Kondo came to help these families clean, she didn’t clean a single thing herself, she only helped them to make time for cleaning and gave the tools necessary to clean. When they were done, the participants talked about feeling more whole, feeling more peaceful, having more joy. Couples fell back in love with one another. Parents and children enjoyed each other’s company more.

When the Temple was destroyed, it was replaced by the home, and the alter by the dinner table (B. Hagigah 27a). How do we make our homes holy spaces? How do we make them places where we feel love, joy, peace, that we are part of something bigger than ourselves?

Cleaning is one piece.

Well, we have finished Eruvin!! Mazal tov! Tomorrow we start Pesachim, but for tonight – celebrate.

Shhhhhhhh . . . it’s Shabbat.

Today’s daf includes a section that is concerned with producing noise on Shabbat. The scene opens with Ula visiting the house of Rav Menasheh where he hears a man banging on the door. Ula asks, “Who is desecrating Shabbos [through producing sounds]? Ula is upset that someone would desecrate Shabbat by knocking on his door. But who ever said knocking on the door was a desecration?

Now comes the argument.

Rabah argues that it is permitted to knock on the door, even though it produces a sound. He states that the Sages forbade only musical (i.e. pleasant) sounds.

Abaye points out that there is another teaching that says that one may cause water to drip out of holes in a special instrument, which makes noise, for the sake of a sick person. This implies that you can make sound for a sick person, but not a healthy person.

Those who believe there sound be no sound (pleasant or disturbing) argue: This is in order to wake him from sleep. Even though the noise is unpleasant, it is forbidden in other cases.

But Abaye believes it’s a pleasant sound that might lull the person to sleep.

This continues. Those against making sound say, what about the law that prevents you from clapping of stomping or beating your chest when you guard your produce on Shabbat – isn’t that because it makes sound?

No. It’s because you might get riled up and end up throwing a rock – that’s the prohibited behavior.

Why are women prohibited from playing a game where they roll nuts across the ground and knock them together? Isn’t it because it makes a sound?

No, it’s because where the ground is uneven, they will be tempted to patch up the holes.

In our Mishnah, it says you can use a wheel for a well only in the mikdash, isn’t that because it produces a sound?

No, it’s because, if you can use the well, you will be temped to water your garden.

I think the daf does a pretty good job of showing that we can knock on a door on Shabbat. It makes me think of another code of Shabbat – there are certain things that are permitted but their not, what we call, Shabbasdick. Is loud banging on the door permitted? Perhaps, but it’s not very Shabbasdick. Is singing? Well, that seems very Shabbasdick indeed.

When in doubt if a behavior is permitted, ask yourself: Is this something that will make this day a joyful day? a day of rest? Is it Shabbasdick? If yes, enjoy.

I meet with a few of my colleagues once a week to review the daf yomi from the past week. One of my colleagues was visibly nauseous when we were discussing spitting spittle verses spitting phlegm. At the time I thought it was hilarious.

Well, today is my day for the daf to cause me to want to vomit.

Today’s daf largely deals with what to do when you have a wart on Shabbat. While lancing a wart would normally be prohibited on Shabbat (and is in most circumstances), in the days of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem, a wart would render a sacrifice unkosher. A wart would also render a priest unfit for offering a sacrifice. So, the daf largely discusses under what circumstances a priest could lance a wart, off themselves, an animal, or another priest, on Shabbat.

After stomach churning discussions on lancing it yourself, having a friend do it for you, whether the wart is moist or dry, and where the wart is located on your (or your friend’s body), perhaps the most disgusting, and the most perfectly Talmudic solution is found.

Remember how the rabbis managed to permit prohibited things by making sure you do them in an unusual manner?

Well, today the daf suggest a priest have a friend bite the wart of their body for them.

Certainly, this fits the mold of not how you would typically deal with a wart. Unfortunately, it also fits the mold of hitting a 10 on my gross-out meter.

Almost done with Eruvin! Can’t wait.

I love Jewish music. I especially love Jewish music with guitar. It is so soulful and organic. That’s why I was surprised that some branches of Judaism prohibit playing guitar on the day when the most Jews come together, the day that is supposed to be the most beautiful, the most special – Shabbat. Can we play guitar on Shabbat? When we read the Tanakh, we see the Levites with their stringed instruments. Why do some prohibit playing music?

Today’s daf takes up this issue:

MISHNA: One may tie up on Shabbat a string [nima] that came loose from a harp used in the Temple, but not in the rest of the country. And tying the string to the harp for the first time is prohibited both here and there.

GEMARA: And the Gemara raises a contradiction from a baraita: If a harp string broke, one would not tie it up with a knot, but fashion a bow. This teaching indicates that tying up a harp string is prohibited even in the Temple. The Gemara answers: It is not difficult; this baraita, which prohibits tying, was taught in accordance with the opinion of the Rabbis; and that mishna is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Eliezer.

The Gemara clarifies this answer: According to Rabbi Eliezer, who said that the preparations that enable the performance of a mitzva override the prohibitions of Shabbat, one may tie even the broken harp string, as this is for the purpose of the mitzva of accompanying the Temple service with music. However, according to the Rabbis, who say that preparations for a mitzva do not override Shabbat prohibitions, one may only fashion a bow. . .

As it was taught in a baraita: If a string of the Levite’s harp was severed on Shabbat, he may tie it with a knot; Rabbi Shimon says: He may only form a bow.

Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar says: Even if he ties a knot or a bow, the harp will not issue the proper sound. Rather, he unwinds the string from the lower knob and winds it around the upper one, or he unwinds the string from the upper knob and winds it around the lower one, before tightening the string until it produces the proper note.

As a guitar player, I have snapped a few strings in my day. Apparently, the snapping of the string is the real reason playing guitar is prohibited by some communities on Shabbat. Playing is okay, a mitzvah even (to enhance the beauty of Shabbat is an oneg and a hiddur mitzvah)! But if the string breaks, what then? What if it breaks and you’re in The Temple in Jerusalem? What if you’re just at your house?

The rabbis debate this on our page. Clearly Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar is the only one who knows much about playing instruments as he understands that tying a bow or a knot will not work. But it’s interesting to me that we have a minority opinion that we can just replace the string. I trust that my Reform forbearers knew this when they allowed guitar on Shabbat.

It certainly makes Shabbat much more joyful and beautiful.

We know, from Masekhet Shabbat, that building is prohibited on Shabbat. But what if things looks like building but they’re not really building?

Today’s daf struggles with make-shift doors, people who need to utilize (but are prohibited to build) a fire, piling items, if we can lock and unlock doors on Shabbat, open and close them depending on where we are standing . . .

How are these all related to building? Well, have you ever seen a door off the hinge? On part of the daf, the rabbis are imagining a doorway where there is no “door” per se, but where you use a plank of wood, a bed mat, a bail of hay or briers in order to block the doorway. When you move the item to block the doorway, it looks somewhat like building.

Likewise, one of the things you can do on a holiday, but not on Shabbat is cook, but, if you need to cook, you would typically “build” a fire.

And keys? Well, part of building is putting things together . . . like a key in a door.

The answer? As long as things are not done in a typical, normal way, it is possible to use them. So, if a door once had a hinge but now it doesn’t so it’s dragging on the floor, you can still use it as a door. If it doesn’t have a hinge pin, but you can suspend it so it’s a hair’s breadth above the ground, it’s permitted. If you build your fire, not from the ground up, but from the top down, it’s permitted. If the lock is clearly part of the door it’s permitted.

What do we learn? What’s the gem? Well, I look at this and feel so grateful for my functioning home where currently, all my doors are on their hinges and the locks work and are clearly part of the door. I felt that, reading the daf, we get some insight into how people lived, what was normal for that time. I cannot imagine blocking my door with briers (even a barn door), So, my gem is gratitude for modern conveniences.

Today’s gem is another reason I love our tradition in that it teaches, even in Talmudic times, that a husband cannot force himself on his wife. A woman always needs to give consent. I know there are some people, and even some faiths, that do not recognize marital rape – well, Judaism is having none of it.

If you’re wondering about how Eruvin got onto this topic, it is because of two different teachings of a verse (by two different men with very similar names).

Rami bar Abba said that Rav Asi said: It is prohibited for a person to walk on grass on Shabbat, due to the fact that it is stated: “And he who hastens with his feet sins”

This verse, “And he who hastens with his feet sins” is now interpreted to teach a very different lesson:

Rami bar Ḥama said that Rav Asi said: It is prohibited for a man to force his wife in the conjugal mitzva, i.e., sexual relations, as it is stated: “And he who hastens with his feet sins” (Proverbs 19:2). The term his feet is understood here as a euphemism for intercourse.

And Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: Anyone who forces his wife to perform the conjugal mitzva will have unworthy children as a consequence. Rav Ika bar Ḥinnana said: What is the verse that alludes to this? “Also, that the soul without knowledge is not good” (Proverbs 19:2). If intercourse takes place without the woman’s knowledge, i.e., consent, the soul of the offspring will not be good.

That was also taught in a baraita: “Also, without knowledge the soul is not good”; this is one who forces his wife to perform the conjugal mitzva. “And he who hastens with his feet sins”; this is one who has intercourse with his wife and repeats the act in a manner that causes her pain or distress.

If you’re wondering if you can have sex with your spouse more than once in one encounter – so does the Gemara:

The Gemara is surprised by this teaching: Is that so? But didn’t Rava say: One who wants all his children to be males should have intercourse with his wife and repeat the act? The Gemara answers: This is not difficult: Here, where Rava issued this advice, he was referring to a husband who acts with his wife’s consent. There, the baraita that condemns this behavior is referring to one who proceeds without her consent.

From these verses we see that there is a prohibition against marital rape. The rabbis talk about cosmic consequences for such an abhorrent act. The daf then goes on to question how a woman might give that consent. Can she tell her husband she wants sex?

Rav Shmuel bar Naḥmani said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Any woman who demands of her husband that he fulfill his conjugal mitzva will have sons the likes of whom did not exist even in Moses’ generation. With regard to Moses’ generation, it is written: “Get you, wise men, and understanding, and well-known from each one of your tribes, and I will make them head over you” (Deuteronomy 1:13), and it is later written: “So I took the heads of your tribes, wise men, and well-known, and made them heads over you” (Deuteronomy 1:15). However, men possessing understanding, which is a more lofty quality than wisdom, Moses could not find any of these.

So, here we see that if a woman initiates, that any child born from that encounter will be children of “understanding.”

I love this text. Marital rape is a real violation that needs to be taken seriously. This also speaks to kinyan – the marital act of “acquiring” a wife. It clarifies that when we marry, our partner remains their own person. They do not belong to us. They need to be honored, respected, wooed, and cherished.

Today’s gem is a bit vulgar and chosen completely out of my own amusement with the daf. There is a term, tayku, that signifies when a question that has been raised in the Bet Midrash cannot be answered. When the rabbis say tayku they are saying that this issue will be answered someday by the Messiah.

This term is used on today’s page. But first we need to read the Mishnah it’s refering to (from yesterday’s daf):

MISHNA: A person may stand in a private domain and move objects that are in a public domain, as there is no concern that he might mistakenly bring them into the private domain. Similarly, one may stand in a public domain and move objects in a private domain, provided that he does not carry them beyond four cubits in the public domain, which is prohibited on Shabbat.

Here’s the part we need to focus in on:

However, a person may not stand in a private domain and urinate into a public domain, nor may one stand in a public domain and urinate into a private domain.

Yes, one cannot stand in the private domain and urinate into the public, or vise versa. You would think that’s the end, but no:

Rava raised a dilemma: If one is standing in a private domain, and the opening of his male member is in the public domain, and he urinates, what is the halakha? Do we follow the domain where the urine is uprooted from the body, i.e., the bladder, which is in the private domain? Or do we follow the point of the urine’s actual emission from the body, and since the urine leaves his body through the opening of his member in the public domain, no prohibition has been violated? Since this dilemma was not resolved, the Gemara concludes: Let it stand unresolved.

This is our tayku! This is a question we will one day ask the Messiah! After so many pages of spinning over minute details, this was good for a laugh. Keep reading the full daf to also hear a riveting discussion about when and where to spit,and what if it’s saliva verses phlegm.

Oy vey. Oy vey indeed.

Once, before minyan on a Shabbat morning, I took out the Torah scroll to roll it to the right place for that Shabbat’s Torah reading. A few other “regulars” crowded around the Toral Table and were engaging me in conversation. It was about a decade ago, and I can no longer remember how it happened, but one of the ends of the Torah scroll rolled off the table and began to fall towards the floor. I grabbed the end and caught it (a close call), but the parchment ripped a little less than a centimeter.

I felt my heart tear as well.

On our daf today, they struggle with a Mishna that wonders – what fo you do if you are reading a sacred scroll on a rooftop and one end of the scroll rolls away? Can you simply roll it back? What if the end rolls over 4 cubits away? What if (remember, we are on a rooftop) the scroll rolls over the edge of the roof? What if it’s dangling only a needle’s breadth from the ground? What if it falls all the way to the ground?

As I imagined the scroll rolling over the edge of a roof, I kept thinking about the scroll rolling over the edge of the Torah table.

Again, we have two values that conflict. If we return the object, we would be carrying on Shabbat. If we don’t, we are allowing sacred items to be disrespected and perhaps damaged. Again the answer of what to do depends on if we can easily roll the scroll back, if it had fallen to within 10 amot of the ground, if we can lay something to protect the scroll over it or not. Nothing is ideal, but, no matter what, don’t throw the scroll.

Last year, at a Bar Mitzvah service (that I was not leading), the Torah scroll rolled off the end of the Torah table. Again. The father was horrified, but unlike me (who only gave tzedakah and paid for the repair) decided that he would make sure this never happened again. He was a woodworker. So, he brought in a few wood samples to match the table, and he build edges for the table so that the scroll would not roll.

I can’t help but think, reading this scenario (which we saw once previously in Masekhet Shabbat) that the rabbis should suggest the same.

For those of you who don’t have a Torah table and so clear a parallel in your life, I would ask: How do you make sure to treat your sacred objects with care and respect? How do you handle books with care? What are your boundaries? And what boundaries are you willing to push for the sacred?

Today’s gem is just a reminder that different dangers require different responses. Amidst the continuation of a conversation about how to carry tefillin to a safe space from a public space if you see some abandoned pairs with no owners nearby, we get this:

The Gemara asks: Wasn’t it taught in a different baraita: And in a time of danger he carries them less than four cubits at a time (so he would walk 4 cubits, then stop. Walk 4 cubits, then stop. And thereby not break the 4 cubit limit)? The Gemara answers that Rav said: It is not difficult. In this mishna, which states that the finder doesn’t carry then, but simply covers the phylacteries, it is referring to the danger posed by gentiles. However, in that baraita, which teaches that one may carry them less than four cubits at a time, it is dealing with the danger posed by bandits [listim].

What’s the difference? Well, there have been times when gentile authorities have prohibited wearing religious garb and even practicing Judaism. If it was a time like that, the person might be risking their life if they picked up and carried (or put on) the tefillin. Here the finder is afraid to be seen carrying them so the rabbis suggest just covering them up. The covering shows respect while not putting the finder in danger.

In the case of bandits, the finder is afraid to remain there until dark – because he might be attacked or robbed. But in this case,the finder is not worried about taking the tefillin with him. Therefore, the rabbis say the finder may carry them less than four cubits at a time.

I think the gem I find in this is that it’s often helpful to ask ourselves: Why am I behaving this way? What exactly is it that I am scared of?

When we can get behind the why, the motivator for our actions, we can often react in a more appropriate way, and sometimes, we find that what we are afraid of is not likely to happen.