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

Oh what a gem we have today! Do women have to wear tefillin? If they don’t have to, can they? For the answer, our daf looks to King Saul’s daughter (and King David’s wife) Michal:

Michal, daughter of Kushi, King Saul, would don phylacteries, and the Sages did not protest against her behavior, as she was permitted to do so.

Pretty clear yes from our text! So, why is it that in traditional Jewish communities, the women don’t wear tefilin? Isn’t it a mitzvah that is solely a man’s obligation? The Gemara continues:

From the fact that the Sages did not protest against Michal’s donning phylacteries, it is apparent that these Sages hold that phylacteries is a positive mitzva not bound by time, i.e., it is a mitzva whose performance is mandated at all times, including nights and Shabbat. There is an accepted principle that women are obligated in all positive mitzvot not bound by time.

The Gemara rejects this contention: But perhaps that tanna holds in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yosei, who said: It is optional for women to place their hands on the head of a sacrificial animal before it is slaughtered. Although only men have this obligation, women may perform that rite if they wish. Similarly, women may perform other mitzvot that they have no obligation to fulfill.

So, here we have the opening of a door, even for very traditional women. While tefillin may not be obligated – if she wants to wear it, this argues that she can!

Similarly, Maimonides, in his Mishneh Torah (fringers3:9) teaches: …Women, slaves and children are exempt from [the mitzvah of] tzitzit [both] from the Torah and from the Rabbis…but women and slaves who wish to wear tzitzit may wear [them] without a blessing, and so too for other mitzvot where women are exempt, if they wish to do them without a blessing, we do not protest.

The Rashba, in Teshuva 1:123, agrees: I agree with those who say that if they desire they can do all such mitzvot and recite the blessings, on the basis of Michal bat Shaul who used to wear Tefillin and they did not protest; indeed she did so in accordance with the will of the Sages and by the nature of the matter since she puts on Tefillin she makes the blessing.

Rashi’s daughters famously also wore tefillin.

Our gem: Michal opens up the world to women. . . maybe . . . to be fair, there are many interpreters who disagree, including Joseph Karo, and argue that if a women puts on tefillin a man should correct her. But even for those who disagree with the ruling that women can chose to wear tefillin (and do other mitzvot thought to be a man’s obligation), this example is on the books and they have to grapple with a woman in an elevated position modeling that women are capable of doing what is thought of as the “purview of men.”

We have entered into Chapter 10 of Eruvin, “SUNDRY REGULATIONS CONCERNING THE SABBATH.” It begins with a discussion about what one should do if you walk past some abandoned tefillin on Shabbat. Do you walk past them? But they are holy items. Do you carry them? Then you are carrying on Shabbat. Should you put them on? But tefillin is not typically worn on Shabbat. What if there are more than one set of tefillin? Can you wear two? What about more than two?

Here again we have conflicting values, and so it makes the question interesting. The rabbis value Shabbat and the regulations built around consecrating Shabbat – including the prohibition against carrying. However, it is a mitzvah to return lost items, and these particular lost items are holy objects that also need to be treated with an elevated amount of respect.

We talk a lot about values. Often we talk about them as to why we believe people should hold certain values. But most often in life, when we experience internal conflict, it is not because be value option A and not B – it’s because we value both A and B and our actions are making us make a choice.

What value will win the day? For the rabbis, it (suprise suprise) depends on if it’s a time of danger as well as if you follow one sage verses another. But every option shows respect for both the values of returning lost objects and Shabbat. So, for us, when our values are in conflict, perhaps we can ask ourselves if it’s possible to show respect for the values in conflict even as we may have to bend on one value to achieve the other.

Today’s daf begs the question: What do you do if you disagree with the actions of your host? What do we do when our two values of honoring and respecting our hosts, and having integrity for our beliefs, collide?

In the scene below, Rav is visiting Shmuel on Shabbat. They are eating together in a courtyard when suddenly, the wall between the two courtyards collapses. The two scholars have a difference of beliefs on what is proper to do. Yet, it’s shmuel’s place, so he makes a call that Rav is uncomfortable with.

As once Rav and Shmuel were sitting in a certain courtyard on Shabbat, and the wall between the two courtyards fell. Shmuel said to the people around him: Take a cloak and suspend it on the remnant of the partition.

So, what is Rav to do? Does he argue with his host? Does he make a spectacle? Does he say and do nothing?

Rav turned his face away, displaying his displeasure with Shmuel’s opinion, as Rav maintained it was prohibited to carry a cloak in this courtyard. Shmuel said to them in a humorous vein: If Abba, Rav, is particular, take his belt and tie it to the cloak, to secure it to the partition.

Shmuel clearly sees that Rav disagrees with his actions and makes a light-hearted joke. So, why did Rav react the way he did:

The Gemara asks: And Rav, if he maintains that in this case carrying is prohibited, he should have said so to him explicitly. The Gemara answers: It was Shmuel’s place. Rav did not want to disagree with his colleague in his jurisdiction, as he accepted the opinion of the local authority.

One might think Rav should just be blunt about his disapproval, but Rav was tempering his opinion with valuing his relationship with Shmuel and the fact that he was in Shmuel’s home. If so, why did he turn his face?

The Gemara asks: If so, if he accepted the jurisdiction of the local rabbinic authority, why did he turn his face away? The Gemara answers: He acted in this manner so that people would not say that he holds in accordance with the opinion of Shmuel, and that he retracted his opinion with regard to this halakha.

Wow, talk about a gemara that applies to life today. How many times have I said to my own children that just because things work one way at a friends house, does not mean that those are now the rules at ours? How many times do we bite our tongues when a host or respected colleague says or does something, and we want to correct them without embarrassing them?

Two ideas I would love to discuss. One is that tocehecha – rebuke, is a mitzvah in Judaism. It’s a mitzvah to correct someone’s behavior. However, busha – embarrassing someone, is a sin. Therefore, we are supposed to only rebuke in private and in loving terms. This is a good text to discuss how we navigate moments where our tochecha would both be public and busha (embarrassing), and yet, like Rav, it is not okay to say and do nothing or we appear to be agreeing. (Think about that slightly racist post you saw a friend or family member write on Facebook. Now you know how Rav felt.)

The other idea is minhag hamakom – that you do what the custom of the place you are in does, even if it’s not how you would normally do things.

For example, my children know that after we finish a meal, they need to clear their dishes from the table. When we visited my sister’s family in India, my children stared in wonder as her family of four ate their meal and then walked away without clearing a single dish. They looked at me, not knowing what to do. We had a discussion about how different families have different expectations about helping around the house (and how some families have employees to help out, as my sister did at that time). We also talked about cultural differences. I also explained that at her house, if they don’t clear their plates, they have someone that they pay to do it. At our house, if they don’t clear their plates, then mommy does it, and that’s not fair to mommy.

I made them clear their plates.

Now that my sister is back in the states with no wait staff, they also clear their plates when they leave the table.

The Talmudic scene continues to be lived out in our time . . . we often disagree with one another and often have to weigh values that conflict and decide how do we react in a way that is at once respectful of the other while still from a place of our own integrity.

What if you are in your own courtyard on Shabbat, minding your own business, when suddenly the wall between you and your neighbors courtyard collapses?

While this may seem like something we don’t really need to discuss today – I have definitely had a section of my fence collapse (thank you hurricane Irma) and discussed with my neighbor who shares the fense who would pay for the repairs. But we didn’t stop and say – well, now let’s just share backyards (like the daf suggests).

An area where this is pertinent right now is the question of what we do when our social distancing walls are breached? How do we maintain barriers when there is no physical partition to show us where our designated space ends and anothers space begins?

The discussion is pasted below. It continues onto tomorrows daf as well. We may discuss the conclusion tomorrow as it’s an interesting illustration of the balance between wanting to show a host respect while also wanting to show you do not agree with them. (Tune in tomorrow for that discussion . . . unless something else is even more enticing.)

Rav Ḥisda said: Come and hear a resolution to the dilemma from the mishna: With regard to a large courtyard that was breached into a small courtyard, it is permitted for the residents of the large courtyard to carry, but it is prohibited for the residents of the small one to do so. It is permitted to carry in the large courtyard because the breach is regarded like the entrance of the large courtyard. Apparently, even if the breach occurred on Shabbat, it is prohibited for the residents of the small courtyard to carry. Rabba said: Say that the mishna is dealing with a case where it was breached while it was still day, i.e., on Friday. However, there is no prohibition if the breach occurred on Shabbat itself.

אֲמַר לֵיהּ אַבָּיֵי: לָא תֵּימָא מָר ״אֵימַר״, אֶלָּא וַדַּאי מִבְּעוֹד יוֹם נִפְרְצָה. דְּהָא מָר הוּא דְּאָמַר, בְּעַי מִינֵּיהּ מֵרַב הוּנָא וּבְעַי מִינֵּיהּ מֵרַב יְהוּדָה: עֵירַב דֶּרֶךְ הַפֶּתַח וְנִסְתַּם הַפֶּתַח, עֵירַב דֶּרֶךְ חַלּוֹן וְנִסְתַּם הַחַלּוֹן, מַהוּ? וְאָמַר לִי: שַׁבָּת, כֵּיוָן שֶׁהוּתְּרָה הוּתְּרָה.

Abaye said to him: The Master should not state: Say, indicating that it is possible to explain the mishna in this manner. Rather, the mishna is certainly referring to a case where the courtyard was breached while it was still day. As Master, you are the one who said: I raised a dilemma before Rav Huna, and I raised a dilemma before Rav Yehuda: If one established an eiruv to join one courtyard to another via a certain opening, and that opening was sealed on Shabbat, or if one established an eiruv via a certain window, and that window was sealed on Shabbat, what is the halakha? May one continue to rely on this eiruv and carry from one courtyard to the other via other entrances? And he said to me: Once it was permitted to carry from courtyard to courtyard at the onset of Shabbat, it was permitted and remains so until the conclusion of Shabbat. According to this principle, if a breach that adds residents occurs on Shabbat, the breach does not render prohibited activities that were permitted when Shabbat began.

אִתְּמַר, כּוֹתֶל שֶׁבֵּין שְׁתֵּי חֲצֵירוֹת שֶׁנָּפַל, רַב אָמַר: אֵין מְטַלְטְלִין בּוֹ אֶלָּא בְּאַרְבַּע אַמּוֹת.

It is stated that amora’im disagreed: With regard to a wall between two courtyards, whose residents did not establish a joint eiruv, that collapsed on Shabbat, Rav said: One may carry in the joint courtyard only within four cubits, as carrying in each courtyard is prohibited due to the other, because they did not establish an eiruv together. Rav does not accept the principle that an activity that was permitted at the start of Shabbat remains permitted until the conclusion of Shabbat.

וּשְׁמוּאֵל אָמַר:

And Shmuel said: 94aצ״ד א

זֶה מְטַלְטֵל עַד עִיקַּר מְחִיצָה, וְזֶה מְטַלְטֵל עַד עִיקַּר מְחִיצָה.

This one may carry to the base of the former partition, and that one may likewise carry to the base of the partition, as he maintains that since it was permitted at the beginning of Shabbat, it remains permitted until the conclusion of Shabbat.

וְהָא דְּרַב לָאו בְּפֵירוּשׁ אִתְּמַר, אֶלָּא מִכְּלָלָא אִתְּמַר. דְּרַב וּשְׁמוּאֵל הֲווֹ יָתְבִי בְּהָהוּא חָצֵר, נְפַל גּוּדָּא דְּבֵינֵי בֵּינֵי, אֲמַר לְהוּ שְׁמוּאֵל: שְׁקוּלוּ גְּלִימָא, נְגִידוּ בַּהּ.

The Gemara comments: And this ruling of Rav was not stated explicitly; rather, it was stated by inference; i.e., it was inferred by his students from another one of his teachings. As once Rav and Shmuel were sitting in a certain courtyard on Shabbat, and the wall between the two courtyards fell. Shmuel said to the people around him: Take a cloak and suspend it on the remnant of the partition.

אַהְדְּרִינְהוּ רַב לְאַפֵּיהּ. אֲמַר לְהוּ שְׁמוּאֵל: אִי קָפֵיד אַבָּא, שְׁקוּלוּ הֶמְיָינֵיהּ וּקְטַרוּ בָּהּ.

Rav turned his face away, displaying his displeasure with Shmuel’s opinion, as Rav maintained it was prohibited to carry a cloak in this courtyard. Shmuel said to them in a humorous vein: If Abba, Rav, is particular, take his belt and tie it to the cloak, to secure it to the partition.

וְלִשְׁמוּאֵל לְמָה לִי הָא? הָא אָמַר: זֶה מְטַלְטֵל עַד עִיקַּר מְחִיצָה וְזֶה מְטַלְטֵל עַד עִיקַּר מְחִיצָה!

The Gemara asks: And according to Shmuel, why was it necessary to suspend the cloak? He himself said: If a wall between two courtyards collapsed on Shabbat, this one may carry to the base of the former partition, and that one may likewise carry to the base of the partition.

שְׁמוּאֵל עָבֵיד לִצְנִיעוּתָא בְּעָלְמָא.

The Gemara answers: Shmuel did not do so to render it permitted to carry in the courtyard. He did so merely for the purpose of privacy, as he did not want the residents of the other courtyard to see into his own courtyard.

וְרַב, אִי סְבִירָא לֵיהּ דַּאֲסִיר — לֵימָא לֵיהּ! אַתְרֵיהּ דִּשְׁמוּאֵל הֲוָה.

The Gemara asks: And Rav, if he maintains that in this case carrying is prohibited, he should have said so to him explicitly. The Gemara answers: It was Shmuel’s place. Rav did not want to disagree with his colleague in his jurisdiction, as he accepted the opinion of the local authority.

אִי הָכִי, מַאי טַעְמָא אַהְדְּרִינְהוּ לְאַפֵּיהּ? דְּלָא נֵימְרוּ כִּשְׁמוּאֵל סְבִירָא לֵיהּ (וַהֲדַר בֵּיהּ מִשְּׁמַעְתֵּיהּ).

The Gemara asks: If so, if he accepted the jurisdiction of the local rabbinic authority, why did he turn his face away? The Gemara answers: He acted in this manner so that people would not say that he holds in accordance with the opinion of Shmuel, and that he retracted his opinion with regard to this halakha.

Back on Eruvin 15, the rabbis mention that you can write a bill of divorce on a cat. I thought that was cold at the time. I had, of course, heard of proposals where the one proposing would tie a note to the collar of their pet to the person they hoped would want to marry them. But divorce by note on pet – ouch.

Today’s daf has a scene even colder:

Likewise, if there were two adjacent courtyards, and a wife, who owned both courtyards, was standing in the large courtyard, and her husband threw her a bill of divorce into the small courtyard, she is divorced. Her presence in the larger courtyard extends to the smaller one, and she is therefore considered to be standing in the small courtyard. If, however, the wife was in the small courtyard and the bill of divorce was thrown into the large one, she is not divorced.

That’s right – he is literally throwing a divorce at her. If it lands in the right courtyard – it’s done. If not, not.

Are you wondering what happens if she wacks it out of the courtyard with a smack of the arm (of a bat)? Well, the rabbis don’t go there. This is just one line in a litany of situations where they are trying to illustrate that if things happen in the big courtyard they are binding, but if they happen in a smaller attached courtyard, they are not:

Likewise, with regard to communal prayer, if the congregation was in the large courtyard, and the prayer leader was in the small one, they fulfill their obligation through his prayer, as the congregation is considered to be in the small one as well. However, if the congregation was in the small courtyard, and the prayer leader was in the large one, they do not fulfill their obligation.

The same principle applies to a prayer quorum: If there were nine men in the large courtyard and one man in the small one, they join together to form the necessary quorum of ten, as the small courtyard is subsumed within the large one, and the individual is considered to be in the large courtyard. However, if there were nine men in the small courtyard and one in the large one, they do not join together.

So, divorce and prayer. Keep reading, it doesn’t stop here:

Furthermore, if there was excrement in the large courtyard, it is prohibited to recite Shema in the small one, as the excrement is considered to be in the small courtyard as well, and it is prohibited to recite Shema in the presence of excrement. If, however, there was excrement in the small courtyard, it is permitted to recite Shema in the large one.

From divorce to prayer to excrement – the Talmud has it all . . . and apparently so does some courtyards.

At least the woman in the first scenario with the husband throwing divorce papers owns both courtyards. Good luck, and good riddance, to her ex. She is an independant woman.

On today’s daf, the conversation about rooftops continues. It focuses on the question of, if a rooftop, courtyard, and balcony, all in the same building, are considered one domain on Shabbat (quick answer: yes). What happens if they don’t establish an eiruv with one another (then yes)? What if they establish an eiruv with someone else (then no)? But amidst the conversation we get this little aside:

Rabbi Yehuda said: There was an incident during a time of danger, when decrees were issued that banned religious observance, and we would carry a Torah scroll from courtyard to roof, and from roof to courtyard, and from courtyard to enclosure, to read from it.

Picture it. Having to sneak from place to place in order to bring the Torah to a place where it could be read for the people on Shabbat. A time of such danger that the Torah is not save. Reading it is not safe. And so they sneak from place to place. But does that mean that it’s a good precedent for times when we are not in danger?

The Sages said to him: The halakha cannot be determined from that incident, as an incident occurring during a time of danger is no proof. At a time of danger it is permitted to carry even in places where carrying is ordinarily prohibited by rabbinic law.

While we as Jews are experiencing more love and acceptance than perhaps at any other time in history (just one illustration: our next VP is married to a Jewish man and is helping to raise Jewish children) – there has also been a creeping resurgence of anti-Semitism on both the fringes of the far left and on the right.

This aside makes me question when we feel safe being who we are. Carrying Torah with us openly.

When the President called the election a lie, saying that we had to stop the count of “illegal votes” and rallying his supporters to act out, my husband went outside and pulled out “Black Lives Matter” and HRC “Love is Love” signs from our yard. I thought it was an overreaction, but the next day, I had a colleague (yes, a rabbi) tell me her husband took down their mezuzah.

But perhaps, the real danger is our fear of those who vote differently than we do. When we act from a place of fear, we are usually not acting with intention. Fear provokes the yetzer haRah, not the yetzer haTov.

Today, I am incredibly hopeful that we will stop the lies, stop the fear mongering, stop the demonization, stop giving credence to the fringes and move away from the danger. I am hopeful we will proudly carry Torah, and Torah values, into our future.

Yesterday we spent Shabbat on a roof. Today, we’re on a boat. Can we wonder the entire boat? Or are we bound to 4 cubits? We turn to Rav and Shmuel for the answer:

Rav permits carrying in a boat that is more than four cubits, because, he argues, it is Hukaf le’Dirah, contained within partitions (meaning the walled edges of the boat make a boundary that serves as an eiruv). Shmuel disagrees with Rav, who permits carrying in a boat that is more than 4 cubits, because, in his opinion, the walls of a boat are not built to live in, but to keep out the water.

So two different men with two different opinions. You may think that perhaps they will fight it out. Perhaps those of the school of Rav will walk the boat while those of the school of Shmuel will stay in 4 cubit zones. But no:

Shmuel replied that the Halachah is like Rav.

Look at that, one leader saying that the other is right, and they are wrong. Let’s learn from them.

On today’s daf, we begin a chapter on rooftops. The discussion largely centers around the question of if one needs to make an eiruv to go from roof to roof on Shabbat (I picture running across the roof tops, like in a movie). But for me, it was an opportunity to reminisce about spending Shabbat on the roof.

When I lived in NYC, I lived in various little apartments, all with multiple roommates. One of my favorites was this tiny apartment by Thompson park. My room was 8ft by 4.5 ft. That was it.

But it had roof access. I loved that roof. And one of the most wonderful Shabbats I had was up on that rooftop.

In New York City, there is a lot of light pollution, and form the street you can’t really see any stars. But from the roof, I could see stars. It was an oasis. And that is what Shabbat is supposed to be – an oasis in time.

I can see why there is a whole section dedicated to rooftop Shabbats. They certainly have a space in my heart.

The gem today is the discussion about “the halakhah of stealing” . . . that’s right, that law of stealing. Enticed?

Here we get a case where a person’s house adjoins the ruin of another (think your house abuts an empty lot, or a lot with construction on it) and she observes that the ruin/lot has been left deserted by its owner. If she uses the ruin during the week (remmeber, it’s vacant), on Shabbat she may treat it as though it were her own, by carrying objects from her own house into the ruin and vice versa. Or can she? This is today’s debate.

Rabba said that Rabbi Ḥiyya said, and Rav Yosef said that Rabbi Oshaya said: The halakha of stealing applies to Shabbat domains, and a ruin must be returned to its owner. The Gemara registers surprise: This ruling itself is difficult, i.e., it is self-contradictory. You first said that the halakha of stealing applies to Shabbat! From here we can infer that a stolen place is acquired for the purpose of Shabbat domains, although it does not belong to the person for other purposes. However, you subsequently said that a ruin must be returned to its owner, and from here we can infer that a ruin is not acquired for the purpose of Shabbat domains by the person who used it during the week, and therefore he may not carry objects from his own house into the ruin.

The Gemara is basically saying – make up your mind! Which is it? Can you use the vacant lot or not?

The Gemara answers: We should not understand this statement as suggested above, but rather this is what Rabbi Ḥiyya and Rabbi Oshaya are saying: The halakha of returning stolen property applies to Shabbat domains. How so? This means that a ruin must be returned to its owner. In other words, one who uses a ruin during the week does not acquire it even for the purpose of Shabbat domains.

Rabba said: And we ourselves raised an objection against our own teaching, as we learned in the mishna. And likewise, if there are two balconies, one above the other, they prohibit one another. But if you say that the halakha against stealing applies on Shabbat, which means one may not use the domain of another, and he acquires no rights to it if he does so, why are the two balconies prohibited from using it. The lower one has no right to make use of the upper one.

So, looks like you should not use stolen property on Shabbat after all.

Reading this, I couldn’t help but think of some friends I know who were squatters. They had been renting a townhouse when the owner moved away and decided they would not rent it out for a while because they wouldn’t be in town to deal with any maintenance issues. The friends did not move out of the house and continued to live there for about a year – rent free without the permission of the owner.

Now, I do not need a daf to know this is wrong. But, I do need my friends in order for me to understand the mindset of someone who would say “Hey, no one else is using it, it’s not hurting anyone if I do AND it’s convenient for me.”

Halakhah of stealing indeed.

The Torah tells our story of having been slaves in Egypt and then being liberated and commanded to build a society that is anti-Egypt.

It’s beautiful.

However, the ideal are not reality. Not then, and not now. Exhibit today’s daf.

We learn in Leviticus not to show favor to the wealthy, and yet, we know that the world still does just that . . . unfortunately, it seems it’s even that way on the daf. When asking whether someone who owns a house someone else is staying in (think landlord, Air BNB, or guest house) so that the owner may have an item that they own in the house of another person – does that count as an eiruv? We get this side-bar about how some of the rabbis treat the wealthy:

What situation are we discussing here? For example, the courtyard of a man named Bonyas, an extremely wealthy individual who allowed various people to take up residence on his property, and he kept some of his many possessions in the living quarters assigned to those people. As he retained the right to remove his articles from their apartments, those areas continued to be regarded as quarters belonging to Bonyas and the people living there were deemed members of his household.

So, here we get a rich man who owns lots of homes. But it doesn’t end here. . .

The Gemara relates another incident involving Bonyas and his wealth: The son of Bonyas came before Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi. Realizing from his visitor’s clothing that he was dealing with a wealthy individual, Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said to his attendants: Make way for one who possesses one hundred maneh, i.e., one hundred times one hundred zuz, as one of this status deserves to be honored in accordance with his riches.

Rabbi Yehudah Hanasi! Shocking – saying, treat this guy better because he has money. You would think he would get challenged or corrected, but that’s not the case.

Later, another person came before him, and Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi once again turned to his attendants and said to them. Make way even more for one who possesses two hundred maneh! Rabbi Yishmael, son of Rabbi Yosei, said before him: My teacher, Bonyas, father of this one, has a thousand ships out at sea and, corresponding to them, a thousand towns on land. He should be granted pride of place due to his exorbitant wealth. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said to him: When you reach his father, tell him: Do not send him to me in these garments. Dress him in accordance with his wealth and status, so that he will be honored accordingly.

Rabbi Yehudah Hanasi complained that the richer son did not dress nice enough (I am thinking he was in Ralph Lauren and Yehudah HaNasi said, he should be in Prada). Is it only him that favors the rich? Keep reading:

In explanation of this story, the Gemara comments: Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi would honor the wealthy, and Rabbi Akiva would likewise honor the wealthy.

Upset yet? Me too. Apparently, we have an ideal – we are all values equally, and then we have the reality – the wealthy are favored. Still true today. But we do get a nechemta (a moment of mercy) in this last line:

Rabbi Akiva honored the wealthy in accordance with Rava bar Mari’s interpretation of the verse: “May he be enthroned before God forever; appoint mercy and truth, that they may preserve him” (Psalms 61:8). When may he be enthroned before God forever? When he appoints [man] mercy and truth that they may preserve him.

Rava bar Mari explains the word man as referring to portions of food and interprets the verse as follows: If one provides food to others, he deserves to be enthroned before God, to be shown honor and respect. Consequently, it is proper to honor the wealthy who bestow such kindnesses.

So, show the wealthy special treatment when they use their money to help others – not just based on their clothes . . .