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

MY sister can’t stand watching someone embarrass themself. This was a problem as a kid as she would change the channel if she was getting embarrassed for something a character was doing (or about to do) in whatever TV show or movie we were watching. I would yell at her that she was making me miss the best part! Maybe that’s why I like the daf examples they give of times when great Sages of Israel did an action that is totally permitted according to the law – but is SO not okay in the communities where they did these acts. We get three examples where you see the rabbis do an act that is taboo in that area and you can just see the embarrassment of these Sages:

Two brothers may bathe together. However, the custom was that two brothers do not bathe together in the city of Kabul (see I Kings 9:13). And there was an incident involving Yehuda and Hillel, sons of Rabban Gamliel, who bathed together in Kabul, and the entire city denounced them and said: In all our days we have never seen that type of conduct. Hillel stole away and went out to the outer chamber and did not want to tell them: You are permitted to do so. He preferred to obey the city residents rather than rule it permitted for two brothers to bathe together.

Ouch #1. Here comes #2:

Similarly, one may go out with wide shoes that resemble slippers on Shabbat; however, one does not go out with wide shoes in the city of Birei. And there was an incident involving Yehuda and Hillel, sons of Rabban Gamliel, who went out with wide shoes in Birei, and the people of the city denounced them and said: In all our days we have never seen that type of conduct. And Yehuda and Hillel removed their shoes, and gave them to their gentile servants, and did not want to tell the residents of the city: You are permitted to go out with wide shoes on Shabbat.

I can just hear a valley-girl voice saying “I can’t believe you’re wearing those shoes – I wouldn’t be caught dead in them.” # 3:

Similarly, one may sit on gentiles’ stools on Shabbat, even though these stools are typically used for displaying merchandise. But one may not sit on gentiles’ stools on Shabbat in the city of Akko. And there was an incident involving Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel who sat on gentiles’ stools on Shabbat in the city of Akko, and the entire city denounced him. They said: In all our days we have never seen that type of conduct. Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel moved onto the ground and did not want to tell them: You are permitted to sit on the stools. The Gemara answers: The legal status of people in the cities, since Sages are not found among them, is like that of the Samaritans. Therefore, it is prohibited to tell them that these activities are permitted.

Wow. My sister would be so uncomfortable for these men. I, on the other hand, find it amusing because it could happen to any of us, so how wonderful that it happened to some of the greatest Rabbis of the Talmud. We all have moments where we do things that we think nothing of, that those around find either uncool, shocking, or gross. And when we see ourselves through their eyes, we get embarrassed.

It’s universal. It’s beautiful. It shows how much community means to us as humans and it’s okay to bend a little to blend, as long as you never lose sight of what really matters like who you are, what you value, and your responsibility to a greater power.

I had a woman call me this week. Her first love, a Jewish man, had passed away. Not being Jewish herself, she wanted to hear from a rabbi – what happens when we die? There is a false belief out there that Jews don’t believe in in an afterlife, but we definitely do. While we may not believe in hell as it’s described in Christian theology or popular culture, there are many teachings about what happens after we die including how those who were not punished in this world are punished in the world to come. One of those teachings is found on today’s daf when explaining the verse: “And it shall come to pass on that day that there shall not be light, but heavy clouds [yekarot] and thickness [vekippaon]” (Zechariah 14:6).

The Gemara asks: What is the meaning of the expression “yekarot vekippaon”?

And Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: These are people who are considered important [yekarim] in this world and unimportant [kefuyim] in the World-to-Come.

Our position in this world is based more on politics, privilege and petagree than on compassion, conscience, and character. But in the world to come, according to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, we see the opposite. He gleans this learning from his son’s near death experience:

This is like the incident involving Rav Yosef, son of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, who became ill and was about to expire. When he returned to good health, his father said to him: What did you see? He said to him: I saw an inverted world. Those above, i.e., those who are considered important in this world, were below, insignificant, while those below, i.e., those who are insignificant in this world, were above. He said to him: My son, you have seen a clear world. The world you have seen is the true world, as in that world people’s standings befit them.

Of course the rabbis then want to clarify where they are in this inverted world. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi asked: And where are we, the Torah scholars, there? Rav Yosef responded: Just as we are regarded here, so are we regarded there.

We teach our children about the world the way it should be: that honesty and hardwork are rewarded, that we don’t put others down to elevate ourselves, that we are responsible to others as well as our communities, that sometimes we need to sacrifice of the self for the greater good. We teach them to be mensches and tell them this is the way to a good life. Yet, we live in a world where we see many examples of those who exploit the poor and vulnerable, who are only out for themselves, rise to fame and fortune.

(If we all became like these selfish individuals the world would devolve into chaos and bloodshed.)

So, how do we explain why we see bad people in positions of wealth and power while so many good people struggle even for the basics? One explanation is found in the World to Come. Yes, Jews don’t believe that we sit on clouds and play harps (I don’t know any faith that really does), but we do believe in a world after this one, a better world, one in which good is rewarded, and evil is punished (not necessarily by hellfire, but by being put in your proper place at the bottom of the social ladder). Even 1800 years ago Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi recognized that the hierarchy in society was not according to God’s plan or an individual’s goodness. He, and his son, saw that he world was largely upside down. But they explain that our actions in this world determine our position in the world to come. This does not mean we should humbly accept this world as it is – far from it! As Jews our job is to make “the world above” come to the “world below,” to draw God’s presence into this world. Let me explain, we are to work to make this world fair and balanced where good is rewarded and bad punished (again, in a just and compassionate way), to make this world reflect all those teachings and values we try to instill in our kids. Jews believe in the World to Come, or heaven, but we also believe that we should work in this world to bring heaven to earth.

Wow, great daf! First we get a passage on who is appropriate to marry who; then we are told not to party all the time and hear some rabbinic name calling; then it goes on to stabbing an ignoramus (or filleting him). . . certainly an entertaining read. So, I will chose a personal line:

It was taught in a baraita that Rabbi Shimon says: A Torah scholar may not derive benefit from partaking in any feast that is not a mitzva. The Gemara asks: In what case does this statement apply? Rabbi Yoḥanan said: In a case where the daughter of a priest marries an Israelite, or where the daughter of a Torah scholar marries an ignoramus. Although a wedding feast is generally a mitzva, it is not in this case, as Rabbi Yoḥanan said: When the daughter of a priest marries an Israelite their union will not be auspicious, as it is disgraceful for the priesthood when the daughter of a priest marries an Israelite.

When I was in high school, my second cousin got married . . . to a Catholic girl. His grandparents (my Bubby’s sister and her husband) did not approve. They refused to come to the wedding. Instead, they sat shivah. Were they Torah scholars? Not so much, but he was also not marrying a Jewish girl from the “wrong tier” as described above. They were Orthodox, but so was my Bubby and Popop, and they came to the wedding and my favorite memory of that day is dancing the Macarena with my Bubby.

My second cousin, whose dad was president of his shul, who had been fairy active in the Jewish community, left Judaism. He felt Judaism had rejected him, so he rejected it right back. A few years later he divorced his first wife, but didn’t re-establish a relationship with his grandparents or his faith. He met and married a nice Irish Catholic woman and had two beautiful kids. His grandparents never even knew they were great-grandparents.

The Gemara talks about what happened to some Torah scholars who married the “wrong tier” of woman. Some are bad:

The Gemara relates that Rabbi Yehoshua married a daughter of a priest and became ill. He said: Apparently, it is not satisfactory to Aaron the priest that I cling to his descendants, so that he has a son-in-law like me.

Some are good:

The Gemara also relates that Rav Idi bar Avin married a daughter of a priest. Two sons who were ordained to decide halakhic matters came from him, namely Rav Sheshet, son of Rav Idi, and Rabbi Yehoshua, son of Rav Idi. Similarly, Rav Pappa said: Had I not married a daughter of a priest, I would not have become wealthy.

But the line that still gets to me is the person who does not attend or eat to show their disapproval of the union. I have seen this pull apart my own (extended) family and families within my congregation. It seems to me it never works out for the betterment of the couple or the family member.

Today’s page includes a discussion of an assembly line of women making matzah and has a gorgeous line from Rabbi Akivah: Not all women, not all wood, and not all ovens are the same.

Amen Akiva.

While he is discussing baking matzah (and the Gemara, pasted below, discusses if the woman is diligent or not, wood is dry or wet, oven is hot or cold), the statement that “not all women are the same” begs a moment of celebration.

Not all women are the same. We have different opinions, tastes, desires, gifts and struggles. No one group is a monolith. Perhaps one way women are the same is the desire to be seen as individuals.

Shabbat Shalom.

It was taught in the mishna that Rabbi Akiva says that not all women, not all wood, and not all ovens are the same. It was taught in a baraita that Rabbi Akiva said: I deliberated this matter before Rabban Gamliel, asking: May our master teach us if your statement, cited in the mishna, was said with regard to diligent women or women who are not diligent? Was it said with regard to an oven fueled with moist wood or dry wood? Was it said with regard to a hot oven or a cold oven? Rabban Gamliel himself said to me: You have only what the Sages taught, which is that this is the principle: If the dough begins to rise such that there is a concern that it may become leavened, she should spread cold water onto the dough to prevent it from becoming leavened.

Today’s gem contends with the expression “in for a penny, in for a pound,” and answers any question you might have about if eating an unkosher beef burger is just as bad as eating a bacon-cheese-burger. Today’s daf gives us two situations where one action violates multiple prohibitions.

Rav Ḥisda sent a question to Rabba with Rav Aḥa bar Rav Huna: Do we say the principle: Since, etc.? Didn’t we learn in a mishna: There is a case in which one plows one furrow and is liable for violating eight prohibitions with this single act?

You may be wondering how plowing a furrow couple lead to eight violations! Keep reading: The mishna explains that this applies to one who plows with an ox and a donkey, thereby violating the prohibition: “You shall not plow with an ox and a donkey together” (Deuteronomy 22:10), (That’s 1) and they were consecrated, in which case plowing with them constitutes misuse of consecrated property (That’s 2). If his plowing aids the growth of food crops in a vineyard, he has transgressed a third prohibition. And he is plowing during the Sabbatical year, when agricultural labor is prohibited (that’s 4), on a Festival (that’s 5!). Additionally, the person plowing is a priest and a nazirite (That’s 6 and 7) and he is plowing a place of ritual impurity, i.e., a burial site (that’s 8). It is prohibited for a priest and a nazirite to become impure by walking over the burial spot of a corpse.

Wowzers! Who knew actually plowing a field could lead to such sin?! The other example is cooking and eating food: Abaye raised an objection – One who cooks the sciatic nerve in milk on a Festival and eats it is flogged for five distinct prohibitions.

And we also learn that there are a different number of lashes meted out for each of the infractions. So, that’s 8 different sets of lashes and 5 different . . .

So, I guess the lesson is not to break the rules, but if you find yourself in a situation where you might – don’t go whole hog and violate a bunch thinking it makes no difference (hmmmm, is that where this expression came from?).

How far would you travel for services? For an exercise class? For a date? For good sushi? Convenience and quality compete for us to determine an answer. Today’s gem is a guideline on how far we should be willing to travel for Jewish community, and by extension, how close we should be sure to live to Jewish community (both in day to day and in travel).

The Mishnah describes a dough that is “deaf,” meaning the dough does not tell us if it has leaven or not. If a similar dough to this this “deaf” dough becomes leavened, then we assume the questionable deaf do is also prohibited as it too can likely become leavened. The Gemara asks: If there is no dough similar to it, what is the halakha?

Rabbi Abbahu said that Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: According to the Sages, leavening occurs in the time it takes a person to walk the distance from Migdal Nunaya to Tiberias, which is a mil, two thousand cubits (a little over a mile).

This statement incidentally teaches us that the length of a mil is the distance from Migdal Nunaya to Tiberias.

Now that we are discussing how long it takes to walk from place to place, the Gemara goes into how far we should travel for the ability to wash hands which we need to knead dough, eat food, and pray (4 mil ~4 miles).

To walk 4 miles means we would be walking for roughly an hour. My gem from this is the message that we should be willing to travel to pray with one another. We are allowed to pray on our own, but a huge value in Judaism is al tifros min hatzibbur – don’t separate yourself from the community. This teaches that we should be willing to travel up to an hour to pray in community with our fellow Jews. Likewise, that we should not live more than 4 miles for Jewish community.

Community is one of the greatest gifts of any religion. Having a group of people to pray, study, eat and celebrate with is a treasure that we should not take for granted. In our world today, joining, no matter the institution, is decreasing, and we are becoming more and more lonely and suffering the repercussions (polarization, isolation, health and more). Being able to walk to be with others is a value that speaks across the years.

My Bubby and mom had a joke. People would come to her apartment and ask: where is the dishwasher? My mom would wave her hands and say: you’re looking at her!

She passed that on to me. Covid times seem to come with constant dish washing, but even before that, even on vacation, I always seem to be washing dishes. My first real job, at the local grocery store, I turned my dishwashing abilities into cash. For $5 an hour I washed dishes at the deli counter (and mopped and occasionally put together a sandwich or rang someone up if the other workers were on break). I scour dishes. I like them to be shiny and flawless. This didn’t work when I would get dozens of huge pans used for baking. They would be stained or rusty and I would scrub and scrub trying to restore their silvery shine. A manager had to tell me when clean enough was clean enough. I couldn’t help but think of this as I read today’s daf that seems to answer, when is a bowl clean enough?

As you will see in the Mishnah and Gemara below, there is a “clean enough” when it comes to preparing for Passover. If you have less than an olive bulk of dough caught up in the cracks of your bowl – you are fine and it’s clean enough. If, you have an olive sized piece of dough, but it serves to reinforce the bowl and will not be removed – you are fine, it’s clean enough. If you can take the bowl to the mikvah to kasher it and the dough goes too and you leave it there in the cracks, you are fine, it’s clean enough.

I loved this little piece because we can go crazy chasing after perfection. Needing things to be perfect can make us wasteful and paralyze us into not doing what we need to do. Good enough is often far from perfect but has the benefit of being practical. 15 year old Rachel spent a lot of arm muscle and hours trying to get rusty pans to sparkle. But all these years later, I am often happy when I hit good enough (not always, but I am working on that too).

MISHNA: With regard to dough that is in the cracks of a kneading bowl, if there is an olive-bulk of dough in one place, one is obligated to remove it. And if the dough does not add up to this amount, it is nullified due to its insignificance.

וְכֵן לְעִנְיַן הַטּוּמְאָה, אִם מַקְפִּיד עָלָיו — חוֹצֵץ, וְאִם רוֹצֶה בְּקִיּוּמוֹ — הֲרֵי הוּא כַּעֲרֵיבָה.

And similarly, with regard to the halakhot of immersion to purify the bowl from ritual impurity, if one is particular about the dough that is stuck in the cracks and he plans to remove it and use it, it is a foreign substance that interposes between the kneading bowl and the water of the ritual bath, and invalidates the immersion of the bowl, leaving it ritually impure. And if he wants the dough to remain in place, its status is like that of the kneading bowl itself and is not an interposition.

גְּמָ׳ אָמַר רַב יְהוּדָה אָמַר שְׁמוּאֵל: לֹא שָׁנוּ אֶלָּא בִּמְקוֹם שֶׁאֵין עֲשׂוּיִין לְחַזֵּק, אֲבָל בִּמְקוֹם שֶׁעֲשׂוּיִין לְחַזֵּק — אֵינוֹ חַיָּיב לְבַעֵר.

GEMARA: Rav Yehuda said that Shmuel said: They taught that one is obligated to remove a combined olive-bulk of leaven only in a case where the pieces of dough are not in a position where they serve to reinforce the kneading bowl. However, in a case where they serve to reinforce the bowl and they will remain there for this purpose, he is not obligated to remove them; he may simply render them null and void.

There is a law that says that, in order to break a food prohibition, you need to eat more than an olive bulk of the prohibited item. There is another law that says that if you take half an olive sized bulk of a prohibited item, with half of a permitted item, then the combination does not fulfil the olive sized amount of the prohibited item. (So, if you had forbidden fat on a permitted piece of meat but the fat was under an olive bulk size, you’re fine.)

On today’s daf the Gemara discussed two exceptions: 1) A Nazarite, who by definition is not to touch a grape or grape product, is liable even if it’s under the olive-bulk size even if it’s in a mixture. And 2) something that contains chametz on the altar.

This is where there is a difference of opinion. As we saw earlier in Pesachim, sometimes, if you have enough of a permitted food (like soup) and a tiny amount of prohibited food (leaven) falls in, but it’s not enough to change the taste, then is become permitted after the fact.

This is different. Eliezer prohibits any amount of prohibited chametz from being offered on the altar if, and only if, it combines with something else to equal at least an olive sized bulk. Abaye, however, days that it does not matter if it’s combined or not, it is prohibited!

What’s the lesson we can take from this? That sometimes watering down bad is not helpful. This is what I am thinking of . . . often, when we want to give critique, we sandwhich it in a lot of compliments. That can be a good thing. However, it’s different when we are giving constructive criticism versus just being mean. According to studies, for every harsh word one partner says to the other, they need to make up for it with six positive words. However, you can see how, if those words are just mean and not constructive, then eventually no amount of niceties will be enough to cover the pain caused. Sometimes (like on the altar, with holy relationships) any amount of taint is too much.

Who wears short shorts? If you dare wear short shorts, Nair for short shorts . . .

Remember that old ad? Well, certainly the women of the Talmud did not wear short shorts, but apparently depilatory creams were an in demand item. On yesterday’s daf, the Mishnah lists specific items that one cannot have during Passover (because, although they are not food, they have leavening ingredients within them). One of those items is “Kolan of Soferim.” What is it? On the bottom of 42b we read: kolan of soferim, is considered leavened. The Gemara explains: Here, in Babylonia, they interpreted that this expression is referring to shoemakers’ glue that is made from flour. Rav Shimi from Ḥozna’a said: This is the depilatory paste of the daughters of the wealthy, of which they would leave a remnant for the daughters of the poor.

There is debate as to whether this is shoemakers’ glue or hair removal cream, but the Talmud continues today by describing what women did use to remove hair:

As Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: With regard to the Jewish women who reached physical maturity, but had not yet reached the age of majority, and women who sought to remove hair for cosmetic purposes: They would smear daughters of the poor with lime; they would smear daughters of the wealthy with fine flour; they would smear daughters of kings with shemen hamor, as it was stated: “For so were the days of their anointing filled, six months with shemen hamor” (Esther 2:12). The Gemara asks: What is shemen hamor? Rav Huna bar Ḥiyya said: Setaket. Rav Yirmeya bar Abba said: It is olive oil extracted from an olive that has not yet reached a third of its growth; the acidic oil is effective as a depilatory. It was taught in a baraita: Rabbi Yehuda says that anpiknin is olive oil from an olive that has not reached a third of its growth. And why is it spread on the body? It is due to the fact that it removes [mashir] the hair and pampers the skin.

Oy! Poor women. Lye that burns . . . the oil sounds nice until you hear it’s acidic. . .

Why is this my gem? I remember a friend getting a rash from using Nair. I remember my own palms turning orange when I, a red-head who only burns, tried to use self-tanner. I remember my friend Mindy accidentally waxing off an entire eyebrow. The shaving, waxing, creaming, and now laser treatments and threading done to remove hair – it all seems so ridiculous and unnatural. I think many women may think, as I did before reading this daf, that this desire to be unnaturally hairless is a modern phenomenon. But clearly, this has been a women’s struggle for thousands of years. Or at least, as Rabbi Yehudah said Rav said, a Jewish women’s struggle.

Today we learned that some of these creams may have leaven in them and were therefore forbidden during Pesach. At least these women got a week of respite. . . “season of our liberation” indeed.

Today’s gem requires us to read a bit of Hebrew

אָמַר רַב יְהוּדָה: אִשָּׁה לֹא תָּלוּשׁ אֶלָּא בְּמַיִם שֶׁלָּנוּ.

This says: Rav Yehudah said: A woman may knead matza dough only with water that rested, i.e., water that was left indoors overnight to cool. However, if you read those last two words: mayim shelanu, you may know that this can also mean “our water.”

Let hilarity ensue:

Rav Mattana taught this halakha in Paphunya. On the next day, the eve of Passover, everyone brought their jugs to him and said to him: Give us water. He said to them: I say and meant: Water that rested [devitu] in the house overnight.

As weird as it would be for a rabbi to say that the law is that they can only use his water, that’s what the people heard and so that is what they tried to do. In reality, he meant that they needed to use water that has rested since taking the water from the source might be warm (according to Rashi) and as any baker will tell you, warm water leavens bread faster than cold water. (I always make sure my water is hot when I am making challah.)

Great little gem that teaches us that when we hear something that seems strange, then we should ask qualifying questions. I have this with my kids all the time who don’t know folk expressions and often take them literally.

No, I didn’t mean that you should literally go fly a kite, nor did I mean that I literally couldn’t breathe, I just needed some space.

There are other goodies on this page too. Including ancient forms of Alka-seltzer and Nair. . . don’t worry, the hair removal recipes continue onto tomorrows page as well.