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

War, huh, good God y’all. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. (Edwin Starr)

My son asked me today: why is it that we don’t ear leather on Yom Kippur? We discussed how we get leather from killing one of God’s creatures. The last thing we want to do on Yom Kippur, is remind God about how violent we are. Then I went to read today’s daf which begins with a discussion of those who have to break the Shabbat limits in order to save a life. What happens when they are done with their mission? Can they come back home? What if it’s outside of the 2000 cubits? And we read:

Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: We must not infer from the mishna that they may go home even if they went out more than two thousand cubits from their limit, but rather that they may return with their weapons to their original locations, provided that they are within two thousand cubits. As it was taught in the Tosefta: At first those returning from a rescue mission would place their weapons in the first house that they encountered upon their return, i.e., the house nearest the wall, to avoid carrying on Shabbat any more than necessary. Once, their enemies noticed that they were no longer carrying their weapons, and they chased after them; and the defenders entered the house to take up their weapons and fight, and their enemies entered after them, causing great confusion. In the chaos, the defenders began to push one another, and they killed more of each other than their enemies killed of them. At that time the Sages instituted that they should return to their locations, i.e., their destinations, with their weapons.

So, we get an image of Jewish defenders rushing out to save lives and abandoning their weapons as soon as possible by stowing them in the nearest home so they will no longer carry. This results in a crazy weapons scramble and battle where Jews end up killing other Jews. . . on Shabbat. It reminds me how easy it is for battles to escalate when weapons are brought in. So scary to picture this. But we can see clearly that these Jewish individuals are going out to rescue, and that they do not want to be associated with violence on Shabbat any more than is necessary. So what of other kinds of battle?

Since the Gemara discussed war on Shabbat, the Gemara cites Rav Yehuda, who said that Rav said: With regard to non-Jews who besieged Jewish towns, they may not go out to fight against them with their weapons, nor may they desecrate Shabbat in any other way due to them, but rather they must wait until after Shabbat.

Sounds like we don’t defend on Shabbat. But we’re not done yet:

That was also taught in a baraita, with a caveat: With regard to gentiles who besieged, etc. In what case is this said? It is said in a case where the gentiles came and besieged the town with regard to monetary matters, i.e., banditry. However, if they came with regard to lives, they may go out against them with their weapons, and they may desecrate Shabbat due to them.

So, now it seems that we cannot go and fight if it’s merely the loss of property, however for loss of life we can and must. But again, we’re not done.

Even if the gentiles did not come with regard to lives, but rather with regard to matters of hay and straw, i.e., to raid and spoil the town, they may go out against them with their weapons, and they may desecrate Shabbat due to them.

Hay?

This makes me think of my least favorite of the many laws that scare me in Florida: Stand Your Ground. Stand Your Ground was originally intended to protect homeowners from being sued or arrested when protecting their homes from intruders. It was supposed to protect those who thought they were genuinely in fear for their life and the lives of those in their home. But what is it in practice? It’s a license to shoot, not just to protect life, but to protect property.

Worse. It has successfully been used to allow men to get away with shooting teenagers who they found “intimidating.” It’s lead to people getting shot in parking lots over disputes over a parking space. It’s lead to those who feel “threatened” to murder without recourse.

I know the Talmud does not want this – cannot imagine this. I don’t want it either. It’s an affront to God.

We don’t wear leather for fear of reminding God of what we do to animals. What abotu what we do to one another?

Today’s daf largely deals with a dimlema that began on the end of yesterday’s: The Gemara relates that Neḥemya, son of Rav Ḥanilai, was once so engrossed in his learning that he did not notice that he was going out beyond his Shabbat limit. Rav Ḥisda said to Rav Naḥman: Your student Neḥemya is in distress, as he is outside the Shabbat limit and cannot enter. What can we do for him? Rav Naḥman said to him: Establish a human partition for him, i.e., people who are permitted to go out there should line up and form human walls, through which he is permitted to walk and thereby reenter the Shabbat limit.

Today’s page debates if this is valid by questioning if it is valid to have a human wall (they discuss a human wall for a Sukkah, for a procession, at a wedding . . . )

The gem for me is the image of that human wall. How we can use our bodies to lovingly bring others in. How we can use our bodies to powerfully protect.

There are so many images that come to mind. I hope you are thinking of some as well. I want to share one, that of my friend Keisha Thomas:

When the KKK marched in 1996 in Ann Arbor Michigan. Keisha and thousands of others came to protest. At that time, police in riot gear formed a human wall to protect the Klansman. But one man who had come to march with the KKK walked right into the protesting crowd.

(Francisco Kjolseth,Ann Arbor News/AP)

According to media coverage, when he realized he was on the wrong side of the partition, he started to run. People notices and cries of “Kill the Nazi” rang out, but soon he fell to the ground. Protestors began to kick and strike the man with placards.

Keisha threw herself into harms way to protect him. She made a wall with her body.

Months later a young man approached Keisha in coffee shop and thanked her. When she asked what he was thanking her for, his reply was simple. “That was my dad.”

I met Keisha in 2013 as we walked with the NAACP from Selma to Washington in protest of the repeal of section 5 of the voting rights act – something we are feeling the effects of so strongly today. We made a human wall, a procession that moved across the south. I was one of the 120 rabbis who had signed up to walk with the NAACP, carrying the Torah. I carried the Torah for 13 miles that day. I carried the Torah as we walked past confederate flags. As men in trucks, like the one Keisha had protected, hurtled hate as us (thank God only words).

Keisha is an example of a human who, sometimes wittingly, sometimes unwittingly, serves as a human wall to try and help us, as a society, live in a space that honors God and human dignity.

May we all be more like her.

More math!!!

Yesterday we had the law of relativity. Today – trigonometry! My math mind is blown. We read:

Rabban Gamliel had a special tube through which he would look and see a distance of two thousand cubits on land, and also determine a corresponding distance of two thousand cubits at sea. In general, one who wishes to know the depth of a valley can bring such a tube and look through it, and he will know the depth of the valley. The Gemara cites another statement with regard to measurements: One who wishes to know the height of a palm tree, but does not want to actually climb the tree to measure it, can measure his own height, and the length of his own shadow, and the length of the shadow of the height of the palm tree, and calculate the proportions, and he will know the height of the palm tree.

My engineering heart is full. Our rabbis knew trigonometry. And had technology that they used to determine distance using those math concepts. When I first read this, I assumed that Rabban Gamliel had a telescope (and he might of). However, the telescope was not patented for another 1500 years . . . Which makes me want to claim (like the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding) that the Jews invented everything and here is the proof. But, alas, I think that what follows this statement is more likely to tell us what is really happening – and that’s where trigonometry comes in.

How can we look at a shadow and determine height? The same way we can look at a building, calculate it’s relative size, and determine distance. According to the Jerusalem Talmud: Rabban Gamliel knew of the heights of some towers (along the coast) which he estimated with his eyes…

This tidbit of information is what we need to calculate distance. You can only use the trigonometry of a right-angled triangle if you know the length of one of the sides of the triangle, and one of its angles. The Yerushalmi teaches that Rabban Gamliel knew the height of the towers that he was observing (AB in the diagram below). Here is the explanation provided by W.M. Feldman in his classic work Rabbinical Mathematics and Astronomy, first published in London in 1931 (From http://www.talmudology.com/ a blog about math in the Talmud that I found when I got so excited about seeing trigonometry in the Talmud and discovered I was not alone)

Did Rabban Gamliel know trigonometry? Well,probably not in the same was our 11th graders do. However, what the Talmud describes, as comparing your shadows length to your height in order to determine the height of a tree based on its shadow – that’s a skill of ratio and comparison that lead to the discovery of the trig law you see above.

So, I guess the moral is that observation of the world can bring us closer to God. And that, perhaps, those of us who love math and love Talmud are not so very rare after all.

There is an Orthodox woman in my office who goes on a long cruise every year (except this past year) during Passover. She loved these kosher cruises as they serve only Kosher food and everything is set up for the proper observance of the holiday. It’s over the whole chag, so they have both Seder(s) on the boat as well as Shabbat and services. If you are wondering about how this is possible on a boat, when we are not supposed to move outside of our eiruv on Shabbat – you are not alone! This is the questions we are grappling with on part of yesterday’s daf and (with a bit of side conversation) on today’s.

Yesterday we learned by watching 4 rabbis who entered a boat and were on the boat on Shabbat. How do they behave? There was an incident where all of these Sages were coming from Pelandarsin, an overseas location, and their boat set sail on the sea on Shabbat, taking them beyond their Shabbat limit. Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya walked about the entire boat, as they hold that the entire boat is considered like four cubits, while Rabbi Yehoshua and Rabbi Akiva did not move beyond four cubits, as they sought to be stringent with themselves.

Today the debate continues as to who is right? Why? In what context? And it gets into some fun mental gymnastics, things we discussed in my AP physics class. Here’s the physics mental gymnastics: Rabbi Zeira said: (we hold with Rabban Gamliel) since the boat constantly moves the person out of his four cubits, lifting him from the beginning of four cubits and placing him at the end of four cubits.

His 4 cubits constantly readjusts even if he stands perfectly still – as the boat moves, he moves 4 cubits, but then the limit readjust again, and again, and again. It’s like the question of a plane moving at the speed of light – if a fly is flying forward on the plane – are they traveling faster than the speed of light?

This Gemara is way before Einstein uncovered his theory of relativity – but the rabbis are discussing exactly that. If you are standing on a boat that is moving – are you moving? If the boat traverses your shabbat limits, do you? What if you’re eiruv is on the boat and therefore moving as well?

It also make me wonder about Einstein. He loved to surround himself with Jewish intellectuals and discuss all kinds of issues. I wonder if he know of this piece of text?

On today’s daf we get a new Mishnah. Within the Mishnah, we get the teaching that if an evil spirit took him out beyond the Shabbat limit, he has only four cubits that he may walk from where he is standing. Unless, of course, he wanders back within the limit while still under the influence of the evil spirit. Interesting right? The Talmud continues:

GEMARA: The Gemara cites a related baraita, in which the Sages taught: Three matters cause a person to act against his own will and the will of his Maker, and they are: Gentiles, and an evil spirit, and the depths of extreme poverty.

Let’s break this down a bit.

Gentiles. In the Mishnah, it also discussed what to do when a gentile forces you to break the Shabbat boundary. We need to remember, that this is not (as it would have been for me) a situation where your gentile friend says: hey, let’s go to this party! And you break Shabbat. This is a situation where the “gentile” is code for local law authority. (We see this just a few lines later when the Gemara gives a parallel teaching to the one we are discussing: The Gemara cites a related teaching: Three classes of people do not see the face of Gehenna, because the suffering that they bear in this world atones for their sins, and they are: Those suffering the depths of extreme poverty, those afflicted with intestinal disease, and those oppressed by creditors.) Here the Gentiles are likely creditors. I think this is a very interesting text to take seriously. When does the law of the land (of the “gentile authority”) ask us to go against our will? the will of our maker? As a citizen, we follow the laws of the land – but sometimes those laws go against what we know to be right and good. With having lost Ruth Bader Ginsburg last night – I think of how she was part of a system of justice that she did not always find just – and about how she stood up for what she thought was right, all while still honoring and obeying the law of the land.

an evil spirit. Here, we should remember that mental health issues (and physical health issues as we see in the parallel verse) can lead us to behave in ways we would not otherwise. Mental health is often overlooked and neglected. Even our ancient rabbis knew how important it was to look beyond the behaviors and see that someone needs help.

Depths of poverty. Poverty leads us to do things that go against our own will and the will of God. And poverty, like mental un-health, is at disastrous proportions. Poverty is the #1 indicator of poor health, poor education, shortened life expectancy and violent crime. In Abram X. Kendi’s book “How to be AntiRacist” he walks through some of his presumptions about race and then what science has proven. One of those presumptions was that black people are more violent than whites. It’s what he saw on the news, what he was taught from society, and he had witnessed some violence first hand so he believed it. However, research has proven that, when you hold steady for poverty, violence rates between blacks and whites are the same. Poverty makes us go against our own will and the will of our maker. We need a war on Poverty. Some are already trying to wage that war. Please, this year, take a look into the Poor People’s Campaign. If we want a better world, if we want to live into God’s will, if we want more “law and order,” then we need to fight what is really leading to violence – poverty. And with over 13.6 million unemployed this is a real issue.

Today’s daf asks whether we recite the “blessing of time” (the shechekiyanu) over Rosh haShana and Yom Kippur. We know that we do for the pilgrimage festivals, but what of these other holy days?

After we get a yes – the question becomes, how do we bless and sanctify the day? We usually do this by making a kiddish over wine . . . how does that work on Yom Kippur?

Granted, one can recite the blessing over a cup of wine on Shavuot and Rosh HaShana; but what does one do on Yom Kippur? If you say that he should recite the blessing over a cup of wine before the actual commencement of Yom Kippur and drink it, there is a difficulty: Since he recited the blessing for time, he accepted the sanctity of the day upon himself, and therefore caused the wine to be prohibited to himself by the laws of Yom Kippur. (We are supposed to be fasting!) . . .

And if you say that he should recite the blessing over a cup of wine and leave it and drink it only after the conclusion of Yom Kippur, this too is difficult, as the principle is that one who recites a blessing over a cup of wine must taste from it. If you say that he should give it to a child, who is not obligated to fast, this too is not feasible because the halakha is not in accordance (The child might come to drink wine on Yom Kippur even in future years after he comes of age, and we do not institute a practice that might turn into a stumbling block.)

SO, what’s the answer? Well, to figure out what to do, the rabbis do what they do best – look at what other rabbis are doing:

The Sages sent Rav Yeimar the Elder before Rav Ḥisda on the eve of Rosh HaShana. They said to him: Go, see how he acts and come tell us. When Rav Ḥisda saw Rav Yeimar, he said to him in the words of a folk saying: One who picks up a moist log, which is not fit for firewood, must want to do something on the spot. In other words, you certainly have come to me with some purpose in mind, and not just for a visit. They brought him a cup of wine, and he recited kiddush and the blessing for time.

The Gemara concludes: The halakha is that one recites the blessing for time on Rosh HaShana and on Yom Kippur, and the halakha is that one may recite the blessing for time even in the market, as it does not require a cup of wine.

So, we can say the shechekiyanu over both Rosh haShana AND Yom Kippur – where we fast. And in reality, we can say it any time, and we don’t need wine, we just need to stop and savor the sanctity of the day.

This is my favorite prayer. One I say with my boys whenever any of us has a first. One that helps me to stop and savor and appreciate.

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season. Amen. Happy New Year.

How perfect to be reading today’s daf the day before Rosh haShana. Yesterday’s daf had a discussion of if an eiruv is valid for one, or both days, if Shabbat is followed by a festival (or vice versa). Today’s daf wonders about an eiruv’s status if this year happens to be a year where there are two days of Rosh haShana.

Now, some reading this may have grown up, like I did, only observing one day of Rosh HaShana, and would be surprised to learn there can be two days. Others who grew up in conservative or orthodox homes, may be surprised by the text saying that sometimes there is only one day of Rosh HaShana. This debate has to do with how the calendar used to be calculate – based upon witnesses watching the moon cycle. Today, when there is no doubt when the new moon is, you woudl think we always know exactly and that we woudl only observe one day – this is what the practice is in Israel, however in the diaspora people still tend to observe two day.

However, what confused me the most, was the question of if you are observing two days of Rosh haShana – do you have to treat both days as sacred? Actually make both Rosh haShana? Or can you kindof fudge one of the days and say the one day where you were strict covers both?

Rabbi Yosei said to the Rabbis: Don’t you concede that if witnesses came from the time of minḥa and onwards on the first day of Rosh HaShana and testified that they had seen the new moon, we do not rely on their testimony to sanctify that day as Rosh HaShana; rather, since their testimony was not given on time, we observe that day as sanctified and also the following day as sanctified? This indicates that the two days of Rosh HaShana are not observed out of doubt as to which is the proper day; rather, it is as though the two days are one long day that are imbued with one unified sanctity. This would mean we treat both days with full sanctity as Rosh haShana. And the Rabbis hold that there, the first day is not observed as a Festival by Torah law but due to rabbinic decree, so that people will not demean the day in future years and end up desecrating the Festival should the witnesses come on time. However, by Torah law it is an ordinary weekday, and therefore one can establish two separate eiruvin for the two days.

Wowzers! I had assumed that the law would go according to Rabbi Yosei – both days are Rosh haShana! Keep both! But, the rabbis hold that this second day is only a rabbinic decree to make sure that we don’t accidentally demean Rosh haShana out of our confusion over it if this is a year where it’s two days or one. (And that is confusing, no wonder our movements have chosen to either have one day or two days and doesn’t change it from year to year.)

This seems to open up the possibility that, in today’s world where we really know when the new moon is, we really only need to observe one day of the New Year. In my community, we do two – but the second day is certainly not as formal or long, or serious as the first.

If you celebrate one day or two, I hope that you have a happy and sweet New Year. I fervently pray that 5781 will be a year of healing and wholeness for our torn, broken, and burning world and for our torn broken and burning hearts.

Shana Tova.

Today’s gem comes all the way at the end of the daf (and a line onto tomorrow’s) and it’s message is to savor the day:

Baraita: A person may not walk to the end of his field on Shabbat to determine what work and repair it requires, which will be done after Shabbat. Similarly, (39a) a person may not stroll at the entrance to the city toward the end of Shabbat or a Festival in order to enter a bathhouse immediately upon the conclusion of Shabbat.

How often do we do this? We are supposed to be doing one thing, or in the case of Shabbat NOT doing something, and yet we keep thinking about what’s next, what’s on the to-do list for later, for tomorrow? And similarly, Shabbat is supposed to be a day we savor, not one we look forward to ending!

Shabbat is a day of practicing being present, of being completely in the moment. IT’s day where we focus only on what we have, where we celebrate our gifts – not one where we work, or work on ourselves or others.

The person pictured in today’s daf teaches us two lessons about what not to do. Frist, don’t make mental lists of what you need to do on Shabbat. Here we see a person walking to the edges of her field to check if she needs to repair a hole in the fence. The Gemara is saying, let it go for today. Just for today, nothing needs repairing. Just for today, we don’t need to worry about appearances or to-do lists.

The second scenario is someone who is eager waiting for Shabbat to end! They wait on the edges of the city eagerly awaiting their chance to hit the bathhouse.

Both beg the question: What is it about Shabbat that makes it truly an oneg, a joy? It’s the savoring. The slowing down. That everything is perfect in its imperfection for just one day. As Heschel said, it’s an “oasis in time.”

One skill that practitioners of positive psychology tell us can lead to more happiness in our lives is praciting savoring. We often think of savoring food – letting a piece of chocolate melt on your tongue, eating slowly as to get the full impact of the flavour of what you take in. But savoring is important in other areas as well, and can make us enjoy and entend happiness! Shabbat is all about savoring the moment. Savor the good food, the ambiance, the smells and beauty. Savor the good company. Savor the laughter. Savor the freedom to stop and be in the now. Savor your space. Savor the reward of the work you did during the week so that you could enjoy Shabbat.

On today’s daf, we get two people who are very much like us: Going through the motions, coloring within the lines, but totally missing the big picture. The big picture of Shabbat is to take time to stop, savor, and appreciate. When we do that well, we won’t notice what’s broken, only what’s whole. We won’t be anxious for Shabbat to leave, only excited for Shabbat to come.

My boys, like so many other children, and currently attending school from home. My 3rd grader is learning about Shabbat, and his teacher has demonstrated making a challah and now assigned them the task of making it at home. While I am not a cook, I do bake challah every week. When I told him he needed to do his assignment, he argued that he had already done it tons of times!

That’s precisely the issue on today’s daf. Can you retroactively assign meaning to an action? Can you designate things as set aside after you’ve used them? Tithe after consuming? While we know that we should do things with thought and intention, sometimes we want retroactive credit for things.

Like many a page of Talmud, there is no hard and fast answer. Really the only answer we get is “be consistent”:

Rav Yosef holds that one who accepts the principle of retroactive designation accepts it in all cases; there is no difference between Torah law and rabbinic decrees. And one who does not accept the principle of retroactive designation does not accept it at all; there is no difference between Torah law and rabbinic decrees.

If you accept things retroactively under certain circumstances, then you should in all circumstances. I can see this being important as an educator – if my kid’s teacher will accept his work retroactively, then she will have to accept it retroactively for all the kids (so then if they have EVER made challah they have an argument to be made).

Looks like my 3rd grader is making Challah this week. A round one for the New Year.

Today’s gem comes amidst a discussion of if we can set up to eruvs, one in the east and the other in the west, and then decide where we will spend Shabbat at last minute. They give the example of if a tax collector is coming, you may want to go to the eruv further away. But, if a Sage is coming, you may want to go to the eruv that is closer. But what if two sages are coming from two directions? What if one is your teacehr? Do you have a coice?

Here is the gem:

We learned in the mishna that Rabbi Yehuda says: If one of the Sages was his teacher, he may go only to his teacher. The Gemara asks: And what is the reason that the Rabbis do not accept this seemingly straightforward argument? The Gemara answers: The Rabbis maintain that sometimes one prefers to meet the Sage who is his colleague rather than the Sage who is his teacher.

Such wise words. Not only do we sometimes learn more from our peers than our superiors, sometimes we need compassion and empathy and not instruction on what we should do.

I often see couples who fight because of this issue. One is coming to the other with a problem – and the other wants to solve the problem, but that is not what the one wants – the one wants empathy, someone to listen, not someone to fix. I give this advice often, and try to use it in my relationship with my husband (and colleagues too): tell people what you want. Are you visiting with this person for their Sage advice? Or simply because you want compassion? Do you want a “here is what you should do,” or an “I hear you”?

Sometimes we want a sage. But sometimes we just want a colleague who gets it.