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

What brings you joy? If you wanted to make an evening really special – different from all other nights – what would it look like?

On today’s daf, we get a taste of reform in Judaism (not Reform Judaism, but that Judaism always changes and evolves). This change occurs around the question of what special thing to include in the Seder so that we are fulfilling the obligation of “rejoicing.”

Rabbi Yehuda says: One should enable each member of his household to rejoice with an item that pleases them, men with what is fit for them and women with what is fit for them.

Sounds good, right? Well, get ready for a little sexism. . .

Rabbi Yehuda elaborates: Men with what is fit for them: with wine. And as for the women, with what should one cause them to rejoice? Rav Yosef teaches: in Babylonia with colored clothes and in Eretz Yisrael with the pressed linen clothes.

Okay, ladies – we can get offended, or use this Talmudic argument to get ourselves some new clothes this month . . . but I digress. The point here is that what gives us joy may not be the same. So, what brings you joy?

And here is the piece of reform as we are told that what was once used as the standard item to bring joy changed: It was taught in a baraita that Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira says: When the Temple is standing, rejoicing is only through the eating of sacrificial meat, as it is stated: “And you shall sacrifice peace-offerings and you shall eat there and you shall rejoice before the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 27:7). And now that the Temple is not standing and one cannot eat sacrificial meat, he can fulfill the mitzva of rejoicing on a Festival only by drinking wine, as it is stated: “And wine that gladdens the heart of man” (Psalms 104:15).

The times changed, and so did what we used to show that this meal is one of rejoicing. A little reform because the times demanded it. What do our times demand of us?

What brings us joy? what will make our Seders times of rejoicing? How can we make this night different than all other nights?

Godd thing we are thinking of this now as seder is only a few weeks away . . .

First we were reading page after page of bloody sacrifices, now we get page after page of the ill effects (and wonderful effects) of alcohol.

The daf begins by talking about how drinking wine makes you hungry. As we want to go into the Seder meal hungry (so we experience the food as even more delicious and satisfying), the Gemara suggests (starting on the bottom of 107b): The Gemara relates that Rava would drink wine the entire day of Passover eve, so as to whet his appetite to enable him to eat more matza at night. Rava said: From where do I say it, that wine whets the appetite? As we learned in a mishna: During the Passover seder, between these cups that one is obligated to drink, e.g., between the first two of the four cups of wine, if one wants to drink he may drink.

What is this? Are we being encouraged to get drunk? Well, maybe not, as the next line says we are cut off after cups 3 and 4: However, between the third and fourth cups, which are consumed after the meal, one may not drink.

What constitutes a cup of wine? Rav Yehuda said that Shmuel said: These four cups must contain enough undiluted wine to allow for diluting a significant cup. (Background, in talmudic times, people would not drink pure wine. They would dilute it with water, generally adding three times as much water as wine.) If one drank them undiluted, he has fulfilled his obligation. If one drank them all at once, i.e., he poured all four cups of wine into one large cup and drank it, he has fulfilled the obligation. If one gave his sons or the members of his household to drink from them, he has nevertheless fulfilled the obligation. . . Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak said: And this is the case only if he himself drank the majority of the cup.

This reminds me of Amy Schumer with her comically large wine glass:

The daf does beg a good question: what is the line between just having wine and celebrating a holiday? How do we use wine to elevate the moment and not BE the moment? How do we use this to enhance and not entrance? (I could go on with these, but you get the idea.)

Please drink responsibly.

Picture this: It’s Friday night, you are about to make Shabbat, when you realize you have no wine. What do you do? Can you use beer (another special drink)?

Enter today’s gem:

Levi sent Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi a beer of thirteen soakings, i.e., thirteen batches of dates had been soaked in water until it had thoroughly absorbed the taste of the dates. This was considered a high-quality beer. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi tasted it and it was especially pleasant. He said: A beer like this is fit to recite kiddush over and to say upon it all the songs and praises in the world! as it is as good as wine.

So, here it sounds like if you don’t have wine – but you have a special beer or fancy drink that makes the day truly special, you can use it. . . but things quickly change:

At night, it disrupted his digestion and caused him pain. He said: It pains on the one hand and soothes on the other.

Ah! A man after my own heart (or stomach). Beer can cause stomach pains (it does for me too). It might have been nice while he was drinking it, but it did not stay so nice when he tried to sleep at night. Personally, I love to have a drink or two, but that night I will not sleep well and my stomach will be messed up for the next day – not ideal for Shabbat I have to say.

We keep reading and see that Amoraim agree: Rav Yosef said: I will take a vow in public, that I will not drink beer. Rava said: I would rather drink water used for soaking flax, and I will not drink beer.

Now, would you give up beer for good? Do you dislike it so much you would rather drink flaxseed water? That might be a little much. However, a quick google search will show you that some people think flaxseed water is good for weight loss. Cutting out beer certainly is.

So, at the end of the day – what do we do if we don’t have wine? Your best choice is grape juice; if you don’t have that, then use the challah. If you don’t have that, you can use chamar medina – a local specialty drink (like that 13 soaked date beer) – but this is unlikely to happen as, if you can’t afford either wine of challah, you are likely to not have a meal, and the kiddish requires a meal.

So, cheers everyone. May your stomach take delight in Shabbat as much as the rest of you.

Today’s gem: The Gemara relates that Rav Ashi happened to come to the city of Meḥoza. The Sages of Meḥoza said to him on Shabbat day: Will the Master recite for us the great kiddush? And they immediately brought him a cup of wine. He thought: What is this great kiddush? He said to himself: Since with regard to all the blessings that require a cup of wine, one first recites the blessing: Who creates the fruit of the vine, I will start with that blessing. He recited: Who creates the fruit of the vine, and lengthened it to see if they were expecting an additional blessing. He saw a particular elder bending over his cup and drinking, and he realized that this was the end of the great kiddush. He read the following verse about himself: “The wise man, his eyes are in his head” (Ecclesiastes 2:14).

Hilarious. As we have learned, different locations may follow local customs and so things may be done slightly different from community to community. Here, Rav Ashi is asked to lead kiddish – but they call it the “great kiddush.” Friday nights kiddish is long, but Saturday morning is short – just who blesses the fruit of the vine – he was unsure of what to do. So, what does he do? He says the blessing and then stalls to see if they are expecting more. I love this moment where he sees an elder drink and so he stops. It reminds me of when you trip and pretend you meant to just jog a few steps. It’s an oops, but he catches it quick. And I love that he prises himself for being observant. IT is a gift to be able to read a situation – and if only all of us rabbis knew when to stop talking from social cues!

Today’s gem comes forma humble man who teaches 8 (yes 8) halakhot with one teaching – and teaches us a very important rule: we prolong Shabbat, we don’t rush it away.

He (Rav Nachman bar Yitzchak) said to him (Ravina): I am neither a scholar, nor a speculator, nor an important individual; rather, I teach and systematically arrange halakhic rulings, and the scholars instruct the students in the study hall in accordance with my opinion. I maintain that there is a difference for us between the arrival of the day of Shabbat and the departure of the day. With regard to the arrival of the day, the sooner we welcome the day by reciting kiddush the better, and we thereby express how beloved it is to us. With regard to the conclusion of the day, we delay it so that Shabbat will not appear to be like a burden to us.

LOVE!

Frist, I love his modesty – I am not an important person or scholar, I am just a teacher. . . Second, I love the teaching about prolonging Shabbat.

One of the things I loved about living in Jerusalem is that people would say goodbye to you at the grocery store with “Shabbat Shalom” . . . on Wednesday!

One thing we do at our Jewish Day School is make havdala together on Monday mornings – it is a way for us to separate the weekend from the school week, and for those kids who don’t have havdala regularly on Saturday night – they see the havdala ceremony.

Both of these (early Shabbat wishes and late havdala) are because of this humble non-scholar’s teaching. You’re awesome Rav Nachman bar Yitzchak.

Today’s gem is: if you want credit, you better put in the work! Amidst trying to answer the question of what blessings one says at havdala, we get a story of a father wanting a son to go and learn from another master; and that son passing on his duties to someone else:

The Gemara relates: Ulla happened to come to Pumbedita. Rav Yehuda said to his son, Rav Yitzḥak: Go and bring him a basket of fruit as a gift, and while you are there, observe how he recites havdala. Rav Yitzḥak himself did not go. In his place, he sent to him Abaye, who was a young student at the time. When Abaye came back, Rav Yitzḥak said to him: How did Ulla recite the blessing of havdala? Abaye said to him that Ulla said: Blessed is He Who distinguishes between sacred and profane, but he did not say anything further.

Rav Yitzḥak came before his father, Rav Yehuda, who said to him: How did Ulla recite havdala? He said to him: I did not go. Instead, I sent Abaye, who said to me that Ulla recited: Who distinguishes between sacred and profane. Rav Yehuda grew angry and said to him: The Master’s haughtiness and the Master’s pride caused the Master to act in a way that ensured that the halakha will not be said in his name. In other words, had you gone yourself, this halakha would have been attributed to you, but due to your haughtiness and pride, it will be transmitted in the name of Abaye.

Jews throughout time might have thought of Yehuda when we recited havdala, but instead we will (perhaps) think of him anytime we delegate something that we should not have delegated.

Maybe Rav Yehuda is okay with this outcome, I am not sure, but I surely do love the story and that fact that it is recorded. It feels so true of a parent who wants their child to shine. So true of a child who is capable of so much but doesn’t look for opportunities to push themselves into the spotlight. And so true of how we learn – by watching others and following their example.

May we learn havdala from Abaye, and to do what we are asked from the (negative) example of Yehuda.

When you have to explain a joke – that’s not a good sign. That’s how I feel reading today’s daf. The rabbis love to give acronyms to help us remember the order of things, and today we get a wonderful acronym to help us remmeber the order of blessing things when Shabbat ends as the festival of PAssover begins (and we have to make Havdalah AND begin the Seder and festival blessings).

Opinion 1: Abaye said that the proper order is yod, kuf, zayin, nun, heh. 

Opinion 2: Rava said the order is yod, kuf, nun, heh, zayin. 

And, the winner goes to: The halakhah is in accordance with the opinion of Rava.

Each of these letters symbolize a piece of the blessings – as they are the fisrt letter int he hebrew of that action (yod – wine; kuf – kiddish; nun – candle; hey – havdalah; and zayin – the time/festival). But, how do we remember the order? You can simply say the acronym “YaKNeHaZ” to remind yourself of the correct order of blessings. 

Think that’s a hard word to remember? Well, the rabbis didn’t because it sounded like another phrase: jag den has. Apparently, this meant hunt for rabbit. Mind you, rabbit is not kosher – and so, if you dont’ know what this stands for, then seeing depictions on old haggadot of a rabbit hunt is very strange indeed.

Inside joke – totally needs to be explained. But, also helpful for us to remember this mnemonic tool.

Today’s gem:

Rav Huna said that Rav Sheshet said: One does not recite two sanctifications, i.e., for two mitzvot such as Grace after Meals and kiddush, over one cup. What is the reason for this halakha? Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak said: Because one does not perform mitzvot in bundles.

If you have a sibling, you know the feeling of having to share attention. This is good, and healthy – we should not be the sun around which our parents orbit. However, you also know that sometimes just want the attention to be on you. Every person needs their moment to shine, their moment to feel as if they’re the sun. Our gem teaches us, that this is true of mitzvot as well.

“One does not perform mitzvot in bundles” does not mean that we don’t do as many mitzvot as we can, it means that we give each mitzvah is’t own moment. When doing a mitzvah we give it our attention, our Kavanah. The gloss says, “If someone performs multiple mitzvot all in one go, he gives the impression that they are a burdensome obligation that he wants to complete as fast as possible.”

Things, and people, need their own moment.

It’s not uncommon (pre-covid) that I would make kiddush at temple, lead services, then come home to have my Shabbat meal. So, today’s daf asks a question that I have had as well: if you make kiddish at shul, do you need to make it again when you come home?

According to Rav: if you made kiddish at shul, you need to do it again when you get home for the sake of your family members (so they can hear it); but this implies that if you live alone, the blessing said at shul woudl have you “covered” for the rest of the evening.

Shmuel disagrees. In his opinion, the blessing said in shul is only for visitors who are sleeping in the synagogue, but even if you live alone, you say the kiddish again when you get back to your house.

Then we get a great rule – kiddish must be said in the place where you eat.

I love this little gem. First, I have leanred to go ahead and say the kiddish again when I get home (which I did anyways because of the same thinking as Rav – I wanted my kids to hear). And second, there is something so Shabbisdic about blessing and then sitting down to enjoy the food and company. The holiness of Shabbat is not just the prayers, but also in what is found around that table – special food, special people, special wine, and singing blessings only elevates it further.

Looking forward to Shabbas.

The “magic” of Shabbat.

When you ask a rabbi why we cover our eyes and say the blessing after we light the Shabbat candles, you will likely get a lovely drash, but the real reason is a bit of magic. The order of blessing (in general, lots of exceptions) is 1) say the blessing, 2) do the action. We bless the wine, then drink, bless the challah then eat – but you can’t do that with Shabbat candles as if you say the blessing, then Shabbat has begun, and you can no longer light the candles. So, we do a bit of magic. We light the candles and cover our eyes, pretending they are not lit, then we say the blessing and open our eyes and – voila – magically the Shabbat candles are lit.

Why am I talking about this?

Well, there is a bit of that same Shabbat magic on today’s daf. The question is, if we are sitting down to our seder meal, and eating, when the time comes to make Shabbat kiddish – what do you do? Do you move the table out of the room (apparently people had TV tray type tables they ate off of for a time)? How do you make it Shabbat time?

The Gemara relates: Rabba bar Rav Huna happened to come to the house of the Exilarch. His hosts were reclining for a meal (that Passover reclining), and the attendants brought a table before him so he could eat as well. Since Shabbat had already started, he spread a cloth over the food and recited kiddush. That was also taught in a baraita: And the Sages agree . . . if one brought out the table before kiddush, he should spread a cloth over the food and recite kiddush.

We take a cover, spread it over the food, and then recite the Shabbat blessings. Then, when we remove the cover – voila – and make the motzie over challah – it is “as if” we are magically at a new meal, our Shabbat meal.

My gem? Well, I am a rabbi who teaches that we cover the challah on Shabbat so as to not hurt it’s feelings (since it is the last thing to be blessed). If we worry about the feelings of bread, all the more so we should worry about the feelings of other people. But, here, on today’s daf, might be the real reason – so we can pull off the cover and -voila – whatever was on our table is not special for the Shabbat meal.