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

Wow, this was an interesting and hard to follow daf, but basically, it deals with the question of what to do when two men owe money to one another when one of them dies before paying the debt. There is a rule that only land that the heirs inherit can be held against the lean of the debt (finance was my lowest grade in college, but I am doing my best here). So, discussing how to make this work out becomes really hard to follow. When they were both alive – they both owed one another and their debts cancelled one another out. However, if person A dies and leaves land to their kids, then person B can come and ask their kids for the money owed to them by taking a lien against the land. He would only do this is a creditor came to try and collect. And we learn a rule later in the daf that explains this:

Rabbi Natan says: From where is it derived that when one lends one hundred dinar [maneh] to his fellow, and that fellow lends a similar sum to a third fellow, that we take the money from this one, the second debtor, and give it to that one, the first creditor, without going through the middleman, who is both the first debtor and the second creditor? The verse states: “And he shall give it to him whom he has wronged” (Numbers 5:7), which indicates that the loan should be repaid to the creditor to whom the money is ultimately owed. Therefore, payment is made to the original creditor regardless of the issue of retroactive acquisition of the collateral.

So, this is how one can by the debt of another person. Or, really, how the world works. We borrow money to buy a house, and then lend money (that we owe to the house) to our kids to help cover tuition. . .

Money is a tricky thing. Borrowing money is even trickier.

I think of two things reading this: 1) the way friends pay for one another for little things, a meal out, a drink, and it’s mostly all a wash – if we both owe one another, then we balance each others’ debts; and 2) the mob bosses from TV – that if Reuven owe’s them money, and Reuven says – go ask Shimon, he borrowed money from me – that it would be likely that both Reuven and Shimon would suffer.

Today’s gem: Don’t price gouge.

Rav said: Earthenware pots in which leavened bread was cooked during Passover should be broken.

Rav feel stha tthere is come chameitz residu, so rules you should break the pot.

Shmuel disagrees: And Shmuel said: They need not be broken. He is following the reasoning of Rabbi Shimon. Rather, he should retain them until after its time, i.e., the conclusion of Passover, and then he may prepare food of either the same type or another type in them.

So, those who live in the area that Rav is the rabbi over, would all need to purchase new pots at the end of Passover. Merchants were taking advantage of this and raising the prices so they could make a lot of money. So . . . Shmuel said to the pot merchants, who would dramatically raise their prices after Passover: Level the prices for your pots. And if you do not bring your prices down, I will teach you that the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Shimon. So, then no one woudl need to break their pots.

Moral: Don’t price gouge. . . would that we all lived by this rule.

Pesachim 29

One of my favorite aspects of spending a year living in Jerusalem was how easy it was to keep the holidays. In Jerusalem my grocery store only sold items that were kosher for Passover during the week of the holiday, everything else was covered or hidden. Restaurants served only kosher for Passover foods. It was amazing.

Returning to the states and moving to New York, I wondered if it would still be so easy. I went to Katz’s Deli on the lower east side, thinking a Jewish deli would be the right place to go on Passover, only to find they were selling sandwiches . . . on bread. I figured I could order matza ball soup and a salad. When it came out, it was chicken noodle soup with a giant matza ball and my salad had croutons.

Why am I telling you this?

Today’s daf spends quite a bit of time debating if you can eat something that is permitted during Passover (like my salad) if something forbidden during Passover (e.g. croutons) has been mixed in. Mind you, the rabbis are talking about eating chametz that has been consecrated and therefore does not “belong” to anyone as it belongs only to the Beit haMikdash. (Jews, after all, cannot own chametz during Passover.) But, as the rabbis shifted the sacrifices on the alter to your dinner table, and as having Katz’s is a fairly holy experience, I think the extrapolation holds. . . maybe

The argument is a bit long and hard to follow, but Rav argues that, during Passover, even if the chametz is mixed with something permitted (like salad) it is forbidden.

אָמַר רַב: חָמֵץ בִּזְמַנּוֹ, בֵּין בְּמִינוֹ בֵּין שֶׁלֹּא בְּמִינוֹ — אָסוּר. שֶׁלֹּא בִּזְמַנּוֹ, בְּמִינוֹ — אָסוּר, שֶׁלֹּא בְּמִינוֹ — מוּתָּר.

Rav permits it after Passover is finished (this is up for debate as this is chametz that existed during the forbidden period of Passover which would normally be prohibited). The Gemara first argues that this is only the case when the chametz is abundant enough to add flavor to the permitted food.

לָּא בְּמַשֶּׁהוּ. חָמֵץ בִּזְמַנּוֹ, בֵּין בְּמִינוֹ בֵּין שֶׁלֹּא בְּמִינוֹ אָסוּר

The Gemara then rejects this idea saying that, if that were the case, Rav would have rejected eating it after Passover. Next, the Gemara posits that perhaps it’s just a drop of forbidden chametz, and so it is permitted.

וְרַבִּי יוֹחָנָן אָמַר: חָמֵץ בִּזְמַנּוֹ, בֵּין בְּמִינוֹ וּבֵין שֶׁלֹּא בְּמִינוֹ — אָסוּר בְּנוֹתֵן טַעַם. שֶׁלֹּא בִּזְמַנּוֹ, בֵּין בְּמִינָן בֵּין שֶׁלֹּא בְּמִינָן — מוּתָּר.

Rav Yochanan argues that during Passover, or after Passover, if you can taste it, it is forbidden. If you can’t taste it whether during Passover or after, it’s permitted.

What do we learn from this? Even in the times of the Beit haMikdash, the dilemma of eating kosher for Passover food in a place that has forbidden items on the menu was a point of discussion and debate. (Of course, here, it’s only those with access to this consecrated chametz who face this dilemma.)

When I got my soup and salad, I sent the soup back, and pulled the croutons off the salad and ate it. It was an unsatisfying meal. But, according to today’s daf, there is a slim possibility that it might have been Kosher for Passover.

When someone uses our own arguments against us it stings in a particularly powerful way. Rabbi Yehuda gets proven wrong by his own argument today.

They said to him: According to your opinion, an uncertain guilt-offering and a bird sacrificed as a sin-offering in a case of doubt will prove that this comparison is not valid, as they are also included in the prohibition of: And you shall not leave over, since these offerings are prohibited after the time in which they may be eaten has expired. As we say that they are subject to burning, but you say that an uncertain guilt-offering is subject to burial. Rabbi Yehuda was silent, as he had no response.

My kids call this a “burn” – when you are put in your place and have no good comeback. Some aphorisms follow from this argument, and they are gems:

Rav Yosef said: This is as people say: In the spoon that the carpenter made, the mustard will burn his palate. In other words, one can be harmed by his own actions.

He who made the stocks shall sit in the stocks; he is repaid through his own handiwork.

Rava said another similar saying: He who made the arrows shall be killed with his own arrows; he is repaid through his own handiwork.

Aphorisms and proverbs are great learning tools. They stick in the mind and teach deeps lessons.

Today’s are used to argue that Rabbi Yehuda got burnt by his own rules – but they take a turn from getting burnt (by the mustard) to killed . . . and that makes me think of how once a technology is released on the world, you cannot (to use another aphorism) “put the genie back in the bottle” and you might even end up being hung in the gallows you built.

Take, of example, Fritz Haber, a German Jewish chemist who wanted to create a fertilizer to help bring nitrogen to crops that were deficient. His work drew the attention of the military and he worked to create gas warfare in WWI. Ironically, it was his own work that would lead to Zyclon-B gas being used against his own people as the Nazi’s wanted cheaper ways to murder more people at once.

So, be careful what you put out into the world – you never know if it might be used against you or people you love.

You can read more about him here: https://www.bbc.com/news/world-13015210#:~:text=It%20has%20been%20claimed%20that,by%20one%20brilliant%20German%20chemist.&text=Yet%20this%20is%20the%20same,today%20as%20a%20%22murderer%22.

Today’s gem: Don’t let perfect get in the way of done.

The Rabbis said to him: Any logical derivation that you derive whose initial teaching is stringent but whose subsequent consequences are lenient is not a valid logical derivation. If one did not find wood to burn his leavened bread, must he sit idly and not remove it? And the Torah said: “You shall remove leaven from your houses” (Exodus 12:15), so it must be done in any manner in which you can remove it. 

Clearly there is an ideal way to do things. On our daf, the rabbis are clear that the ideal way to dispose of chameitz is through burning – but what if you don’t have anything to burn it with? You don’t just leave it!

Sometimes we don’t do what we should because we are not capable or confident of doing it the best way possible. We don’t call that friend who has had a lost a family member because we don’t know what to say. We don’t finish the paper, because we can’t find the right opening. We don’t try because we are worried it’s not good enough.

So, the gem is to strive for the ideal, but don’t let perfection get in the way of good enough.

Is it okay if “being bad feels good”?

We established that it is okay to use forbidden things to derive benefit if it’s unavoidable for a higher purpose – like being necessary for healing. But what if it is avoidable but done in an unusual manner (which sometimes allows forbidden things to be permitted)?

For example (as we see on today’s daf), if the music and incense used int he Temple is for the purpose of Temple worhsip, and no one is to derive benefit – what about people who happen to be outside of the tmeple and hear the music? Smell the incense? Have they violated a law? The Gemara answers: Rabbi Shimon ben Pazi said that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said in the name of Bar Kappara: The sound of the musical instruments in the Temple and the sight and smell of the incense are not subject to the prohibition of misuse of consecrated property. The implication is that there is no violation of the prohibition of misuse of consecrated property by Torah law in this case.

If we stopped here, we would be in the clear to overhear (and “oversmell”). But it doesn’t . . .

However, there is a violation of the prohibition by rabbinic law. Bummer.

What, is it not referring to those standing inside the Sanctuary, for whom it is not possible that they will not hear these sounds or they will not observe the sight and smell of the incense? How can they avoid it? And in such a case, if they intend to derive benefit, it is prohibited. The Gemara rejects this: No, it is referring to those who are standing outside. Since they are not required to be there at that time, it is a case where it is possible to avoid the situation and one intends to derive benefit, which is prohibited according to all opinions.

So, if you don’t need to be there, but you are there precisely because you want to overhear and smell what’s happening in the sanctuary, that’s a problem. But, of course, the debate continues. I want to talk about this line: Rather, Rav Pappa said: Sound and sight are not subject to the prohibition of misuse of consecrated property, because they have no substance.

This reminds me of a story I love, “The Stolen Smell.”

There are a few versions of this story out there. But the summary is that a very poor man goes into a bakery to smell the baked goods (some say a restaurant to smell the soup). He doesn’t buy anything, but stands there and smells the sweet aroma. The baker gets upset that this man comes into his bakery and smells the sweet air but buys nothing. After this occurs a few times, he decides to call the police to arrest the man for stealing. The baker and the poor man find themselves in court in front of a judge. The baker explains that this poor man was stealing from his bakery. The judge is furious and asks: how much did he steal? The baker explains that everyday he came in a smelled his baked goods. The judge asks – did he touch anything? Take a bite? The baker says no and he demands to be compensated. The judge asks the poor man what money he has. The poor man has a few coins in his pocket. The judge asks him to take all the money he has in his pocket and to put it in his hand and carry it to the baker. The poor man is devastated – it’s all he has. Just before the poor man hands it over, the judge instructs the poor man to shake the change in his hand by the bakers ear – so he can hear the sound of the money. He does so and the judge says, “There is your payment – the sound of money for the smell of food.”

My take away? If you want to enjoy they sounds and smells – go for it – they bring beauty to this world.

On today’s daf, we get a summary statement of the arguments made throughout the past few dapim (pages) that permits us to use forbidden things for healing purposes: When Ravin came from the Eretz Yisrael to Babylonia, he said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: One may heal oneself with any substance from which one may not derive benefit, except for idolatry or forbidden sexual relations or bloodshed.

We learn from this that, as long as you’re not murdering, idol worshiping, or sexually abusing – you can violate Torah rules for healing purposes.

What’s interesting for us is the question of boundaries to our actions – and in particular, what falls into these categories today?

When we wear a diamond ring (as I do) – are we deriving benefit from bloodshed? When we eat vegetables that (knowingly or not) were picked by migrant workers who are not paid a living wage.. . When we wear a face mask made by Uighur Muslims who are in detention centers in China . . . or underwear made by American prisoners – is this a form of bloodshed? Of idolatry? When we don’t lock down and prioritize the economy over lives – is that idolatry? When we (both men and women) continue to exploit women’s bodies for both sexual and financial gain, have we violated all three?

At first blush these boundaries seem far lying and our rabbis fairly permissive – but if we could only keep these boundaries our society and the world woudl be a much more moral, ethical, and just place.

And today’s gem tackles the Glucosamine Chondroitin question (yesterday we learned we can play football with a pig skin even though we can’t eat pig, but the question was still open as to if you can consume something you are prohibited from eating if you’re not consuming it as food):

Some say that this is what Rabbi Abbahu said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: With regard to all prohibitions against deriving benefit in the Torah, one is flogged for violating them only if he derives benefit from the prohibited item in the usual manner. The Gemara asks: To exclude what case did Rabbi Yoḥanan say this? Rav Shimi bar Ashi said: To exclude a case where one placed the fat of an ox that is stoned on his wound to help it heal. He teaches that, although one generally may not derive benefit from forbidden fats, in this case he is exempt because these fats are not normally used for medicinal purposes. And all the more so one who eats raw fat is exempt, as this is certainly not an ordinary way to benefit from fat. It was also stated that Rav Aḥa bar Avya said that Rav Asi said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: If one placed the fat of an ox that is stoned on his wound for medicinal purposes, he is exempt, because with regard to all prohibitions against deriving benefit in the Torah, one is flogged for violating them only if he derives benefit from the prohibited item in its usual manner.

Here we go! So, there is a firm argument to be made that, not only can we use non-kosher animal parts for life-saving surgery, we can even consume non-kosher animal parts for medicinal reasons – as long it’s not how it’s normally consumed!

So, no pork bacon, but certainly the medicines that have derivatives from non-kosher animals (or animal parts) have a fighting chance at getting the okay from the Sages of this page.

There was an episode of Grey’s Anatomy years back where a Baalat Teshuvah (a non-religious Jewish woman who took on Orthodoxy) needs a valve replacement surgery and she refuses to take the one offered her by the hospital because it is a porcine valve (meaning it’s from a pig).

Today’s daf shows us how the producers got this one wrong.

Have fun making your way through today’s arguments, but unlike many a daf, we get a summary at the end: The Gemara relates: One of the Sages sat before Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥmani, and he sat and said in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi: From where is it derived with regard to all the prohibitions in the Torah that just as it is prohibited to eat them, so too, it is prohibited to benefit from them? And what are the prohibited objects to which this statement refers? They are leavened bread on Passover and an ox that is stoned.

Yep. We care allowed to derive benefit from other things we can’t eat – just not an ox that was stoned to death or leavened bread on Passover.

What does this mean? That we can wear alligator shoes while throwing the old pigskin around. That we can wear tekhelet on our tzitzit (that’s the blue string) dyed by a non-kosher animal. And yes, we can even use porcine valves.

Where it gets tricky is when your consuming a non-kosher animal but your not eating it, like taking Glucosamine and Chondroitin Supplements where there are non-kosher ingredients, but it’s a medication. But I am sure we will get to that in the next 7 years. If not, we shall revisit it next time we read Pesachim 23.

Moral of the story? When you see Hollywood’s take on Judaism and Jewish practice and it seems a little off – go ask your rabbi. (By the way, they also messed up in the episode when this devout orthodox woman said she wanted her rabbi to say a blessing before she underwent surgery and her rabbi was a woman. While there are, in present day, some Maharats, there were none when this episode originally aired.)

Well, I wrote this daf for MyJewishLearning.com. However, it was emailed out and I still don’t see it on the website. So, here it goes, just keep in mind that this was published so any copyright should be given to My Jewish Learning.

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Pesachim 22 – “Love et or leave et.” 

Rabbi Rachel Greengrass 

What can a bloody ox teach us about Hebrew grammar? Apparently, something.  

The Hebrew language has unique syntax. For example, et (אֶת) is a preposition used to introduce a direct object. So, if you wanted to say, “she turned the page,” in Hebrew the et would go immediately before the word “the.” It’s a word with no translation in English, and no meaning … or so we thought. 

We’ve been discussing the rule that one may not derive benefit from leaven once the time for eating it has expired on Erev Passover. The rabbis bring analogies to other things from which one may not benefit. Within a discussion over the biblical prohibition from deriving benefit from the meat or hide of an ox that gored someone and was put to death, the rabbis wonder if the ox has never gored before, perhaps the prohibition of deriving benefit from the hide is different from an ox that is known to gore? Perhaps the owner cannot derive benefit from the meat, but can derive benefit from the hide?  

From where do they derive the prohibition against benefiting from the ox’s hide? 

They derive it from the wording: “Of [et] its flesh.” (The verse could have been formulated  “And its flesh shall not be eaten” and this word order would not require the word et.) The addition of the word et comes to include that which is secondary to the flesh, i.e., the hide.  

The rabbis derive an entire halakhah from the word et! A word that means nothing. Those who have taken Hebrew grammar are not the only one’s surprised by this answer: 

And the other? (How does the other sage interpret the word et?) This sage does not interpret et! 

The second sage responds by saying this word has no meaning! But rabbis are so good at finding meaning in things others simply ignore or take for granted. And so we learn that there was (at least) one rabbi who would interpret every et in the Torah, until one day he was stumped: 

Shimon HaAmmassoni, and some say that it was Nehemya HaAmmassoni, would interpret all occurrences of the word et in the Torah. Once he reached the verse: “You shall be in awe of [et] the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 10:20), he stopped interpreting. 

His students said to him: Rabbi, what will be with all the et’s that you interpreted until now? 

He said to them: Just as I received reward for the interpretation, so I shall receive reward for my withdrawal.  

I love this teaching. Rabbi HaAmmassoni would derive meanings from words that others saw no meaning in. And what’s better? When he was stumped, or got to an interpretation he was uncomfortable tackling, he admitted it.  

His questions remain: How do we add meaning to the idea of being in awe of God? Of loving God? What does the et have to teach us? What is it asking us to do? I am not sure, but this teaching invites us at least to pause; and a pause to contemplate the awe of God or the love of God can be quite powerful indeed.  “