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

This daf was very engaging. The overall message is one of understanding how to be respectful of our superiors. On the daf, they discuss not making a ruling when your teacher is there (or even alive) and could make it instead. It shows a subservience that is far from what we teach in America.

Rabbi Eliezer had a certain disciple who issued a halakhic ruling in his presence. Rabbi Eliezer said to his wife, Imma Shalom: I will be surprised if this one completes his year, i.e., if he lives until the end of the year. And so it was, he did not complete his year. (yes, that’s right, he died)

His wife said to him: Are you a prophet? He said to her: I am not a prophet, nor the son of a prophet, but I have received the following tradition: Anyone who issues a halakhic ruling in his teacher’s presence is liable to receive the death penalty.

Wow, this is far from what we are taught in the modern business world where we are taught to challenge the structure and speak up. But as a teacher and rabbi, I do regularly experience incidences that highlight the difference between a kind of sharpening of the ideas of a teacher, or asking challenging questions, and out-and-out disrespect. The daf certainly asks us to think twice about what we say, when and how we say it, and if it shows kavod (respect) to our teachers. Not a bad lesson at all . . .

Today’s gem is the importance of getting to know your neighbors.

The Mishnah asks about establishing an eiruv in a common courtyard with someone who is not Jewish, or someone who is Jewish who does not follow the rules of eirvu (yes! there were Jews who did not follow these rules even then). The Gemara goes into the nitty-gritty fo when you can and can’t establish an eiruv. Questions must be answered in terms of: is this person going to be in their home on Shabbat? If they are leaving, do you know they won’t be back until after Shabbat? (In these cases you can make an eiruv because it’s as if it’s an empty lot.) If they don’t know the rules of eiruv, will they be willing to follow your rules?

One of the rules is that the person who does not observe eiruv rules can “sell” or “rent” their property to the Jewish person who does observe eiruv so that the Jewish person can pass through their courtyard etc. The rabbis call this a “flawed rental” menaing they offer a symbolic gift not worth much for this honor. The Gemara asks: But according to the one who said that we require only a flawed rental, what is there to say in this regard? Why shouldn’t the gentile want to rent out his residence? The Gemara answers: Even so, the gentile is concerned about witchcraft, i.e., that the procedure is used to cast a spell on him, and therefore he does not rent out his residence.

Picture one of your neighbors coming over and asking to “rent” your house/apartment for a penny. When you say no, they explain that you aren’t really going to use it but you need it so you can walk freely as you establish a magical invisible barrier around your house and your neighbors. Would you think this person crazy? Now imagine that you see this person regularly singing in a foreign tongue? Wearing strange boxes on their head and chanting with their eyes closed . . . maybe you woudl be concerned about witch craft as well?

This daf has been interesting to me in that it clearly shows the need to learn about those who are different than we are. While the rabbis may have idealized a community in which every one was Jewish, and everyone accepted rabbinical law as law – it was not the case even on the daf itself. We live in a world where we are surrounded by people who think, feel, believe, and practice differently than we do – whether they are the same faith or not. With exposure to those who are different, who practice different – with cultural sensitivity – maybe we can stop being so suspicious of one another and learn how to be good neighbors.

Today’s gem is an interesting lesson on what may happen when you meander onto someone else’s turf (this is over 1500 years before the Sopranos, and modern day mafia and gangs, but I like ot picture Tony Soprano studying this story):

As it was taught in a baraita: Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi permitted the residents of Geder, situated at the top of a slope, to descend on Shabbat to Ḥamtan, situated at the bottom of the slope, but the residents of Ḥamtan may not ascend to Geder. What is the reason? Is it not because these, the inhabitants of Geder, constructed a barrier at the lower edge of their city, and these, the members of Ḥamtan, did not construct a barrier at the upper edge of their city? So, does it have to do with Shabbat boundaries?

When Rav Dimi came from Eretz Yisrael to Babylonia, he said: This ruling was issued not due to their respective Shabbat limits, but rather because the residents of Geder would assault [metatreg] the residents of Ḥamtan. So, it’s a way to protect the residents of Hamtan from those bullies from Geder.

And what does it mean that Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi permitted the residents of Geder to descend to Ḥamtan, but not vice versa? He instituted this. In other words, this was not a halakhic ruling, but rather an ordinance instituted to protect the public welfare and prevent fighting.

The Gemara asks: What is different about Shabbat? Why didn’t Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi institute the ordinance for the rest of the week? The Gemara answers: Drunkenness is common on Shabbat. True then, and true now. When people drink too much they might pick a fight they would never pick sober.

The Gemara asks: When the residents of Geder go to Ḥamtan, they will assault the residents there; of what use, then, is this ordinance? The Gemara answers: A dog that is not in its place will not bark for seven years.

I loved this line. The Sancino says: On its own turf, a dog barks readily, but it becomes scared in unfamiliar surroundings and remains silent. Similarly, the people of Geder are not nearly as bold when they visit Ḥamtan as they are in their own town. I like to think of how bold people are when they are on their own turf, surrounded by their friends – but how quickly that can change when they are not on their own turf.

The Gemara asks: If so, we should be concerned about the reverse scenario, that now too, the residents of Ḥamtan, in their home territory, will take revenge and assault the residents of Geder. The Gemara answers: The people of Geder would not be submissive to such an extent.

So, while visiting Ḥamtan, they would be less likely to initiate fights, but should a resident of Hamtan try to start a fight, they would certainly fight back. Consequently, the people of Ḥamtan would not dare initiate hostilities with them. Therefore, there is no concern about the safety of either group.

I loved this passage because it teaches us so much about street smarts. Where do you walk and when, who do you show respect to, when do you pick a fight, when do you fight back, perhaps you should be wary of certain individuals when they are drunk or otherwise impaired.

So much of the Talmud, and so much schooling in general, is geared towards book smarts. But people also need some street smarts, some common sense, if they are going to make it in this world. The take away – if you have a bellicost individual, it’s much better to interact with them on your own turf, without them having a gang of comrades with them, and when they are sober. But if you are in their neighborhood, and they are drunk and surrounded by friends, it might be best for you to avoid contact.

One of my favorite lines from my teacher, Rabbi Shai Held, is when he said in a lecture (this is by memory so it might not be word for word, but you’ll get the idea), “The Torah is not a thing to sit back and simply admire . . . if we are to take it seriously, it asks a lot of us.”

I thought of that as I read today’s short gem: When you study Talmud is it merely a song?

Are you simply singing along with the words and not comprehending what they say? Or is it merely for your pleasure, and not asking anything of you?

Jonathan Safran Foer, a fabulous author, changed the type of books he writes when he became alarmed about climate change and wanted to use his fame and talent to help inform and change the way we exploit our earthly home. When he came to Miami’s book fair last year, he said something that has really stuck with me. He said that – we are all climate change deniers. He said that we like to look to those who don’t believe the science and tell ourselves that we are better than them – but we, in large part, continue to live our lives – even if we are informed and believe the science – as if climate change is not real. He challenged the crowd to ask ourselves, what are we willing to sacrifice because we believe in climate change? How will we change our lives because we understand that our choices impact the planet as a whole?

Last night we had a fabulous program where Kerry-Ann Royes from the YWCA talked to us (and kicked off) about a 21 day racial justice challenge. (Sing up here: http://eepurl.com/heZVWz ) It’s 21 days of learning in order to do real anti-racism work. When I asked her if she received pushback from any of the information they disseminated, she said she was surprised that there were people who, despite reading facts and figures proven by multiple experts – simply could not believe that what they were reading was true.

I thought of this line from our daf. (Maybe because when I sing old hip hop songs from the 80s and 90s they tell the same story of what is “new” and “shocking” about racial justice today.) If we accept what we read as true – what, then, does it ask of us?

It asks us to change the way we live. It asks us to make certain sacrifices.

The Torah is not simply a thing to be looked at and admired. It demands, “Justice Justice Shall you pursue.” “Love the immigrant/stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” Protect the “widow, the orphan, and the foreigner in your midst.” “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “You shall not destroy trees by wielding an ax against them, for you may eat from them, but you shall not cut them down. Is the tree of the field a man, to go into the siege before you?”

Are we simply singing the words to the song without letting the lyrics sink in? How will you change because of what you have learned?

Today’s daf asks many questions about what makes up a city? Who si included/ Who is excluded? Can we make boundaries that include some and not others? What if I don’t want those who are not in my circle to pass through our eiruv?

MISHNA: If a private city (a small city) grows and becomes a heavily populated public city, one may establish a joining of the courtyards for all of it, as long as it does not include a public domain as defined by Torah law. And if a public city loses residents over time and becomes a private city, one may not establish an eiruv for all of it unless one maintains an area outside the eiruv that is like the size of the city of Ḥadasha in Judea, which has fifty residents. This is the statement of Rabbi Yehuda. Rabbi Shimon says: The excluded area need not be so large; rather, it is sufficient to exclude three courtyards with two houses each.

GEMARA: The Gemara asks: What are the circumstances of a private city that becomes a public city? Rav Yehuda said: For example, the Exilarch’s village [de’iskarta] was a small village set aside for the Exilarch’s family and attendants; since it was frequented by many people, it turned into a public city. . . The Sages taught in a baraita: If a private city becomes public, and a bona fide public domain passes through it, how does one establish an eiruv for it?

As someone from Ft. Wayne, Indiana who has lived in Jerusalem, New York, and now Miami – this is all fascinating to me. Ft. Wayne, while being the second largest city in Fort Wayne, was different than the other big cities in that the city was not broken up into smaller boroughs or cities within the city the way the others did. From the Upper-West Side, Chelsie, Hells Kitchen, to the Bronx, Dumbo, Long Island City and more – the larger cities I have lived in had cities within cities. Both Ft. Wayne, and the other 3 much larger cities have neighborhoods that segregate those living in that area from the surrounding city. Neighborhoods might have their own amenities that are only available to those who live within the boarders. There may be gates that restrict outsiders from coming in, with guard gates and surrounding walls that largely block those within from the outside world.

While I know that on future dapim (pages) we will get into further discussions about the legality of such boundaries, I couldn’t help but think of this as I read today’s page, which largely emphases how to make all members of a city or town feel included and be included. How we shouldn’t draw boundaries that exclude others, or create these elite cities within the city.

In every city I mentioned, even little old Fort Wayne, it is becoming so expensive to live within the city limits that the “in” group is becoming more and more wealthy and less and less diverse.

Maybe we should be asking ourselves the questions on our daf. Who is included in this? Who are we hurting or leaving out? Why are we drawing these boundaries? What are the benefits to these boundaries? The drawbacks? How can we make sure that everyone has enough? Has community? How do we erect barriers today – and are they really kosher?

The Gemara continues to discuss measuring today. Yesterday, we read in the Mishnah that we are to measure the Shabbat limit using a piece of rope that is 50 cubits long. In today’s Gemara, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ḥananya said: There is nothing better for measuring than iron chains! But what shall we do, as the Torah states: “I lifted up my eyes again and looked, and behold a man with a measuring rope in his hand” (Zechariah 2:5), from which it is derived that measurements must be made with a rope.

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ḥananya points out that there are better, more precise tools that the rabbis could be using to measure the eiruv. However, even though a tool that is more accurate exists, they insist that we still use only this rope made of natural fibers.

Why?

Sometimes we try to be so precise we are paralyzed. We can try and get things so right, so exact, that we don’t move. “Measure twice, cut once” is the advice given to those cutting wood for construction. Measure twice, not more. As Brene Brown wrote in Daring Greatly: “‘DON’T LET THE PERFECT BE THE ENEMY OF THE GOOD.’ (CRIBBED FROM VOLTAIRE.) A TWENTY-MINUTE WALK THAT I DO IS BETTER THAN THE FOUR-MILE RUN THAT I DON’T DO. THE IMPERFECT BOOK THAT GETS PUBLISHED IS BETTER THAN THE PERFECT BOOK THAT NEVER LEAVES MY COMPUTER. THE DINNER PARTY OF TAKE-OUT CHINESE FOOD IS BETTER THAN THE ELEGANT DINNER THAT I NEVER HOST.”

Still think you need things to be just so? Well, “good enough” is good enough for God,so maybe it should be for us as well. In Vayikra Rabbah 7:2 we read, “Rabbi Alexandri said: If a commoner uses a broken vessel, it is a disgrace to him. But the Holy One of Blessing uses broken vessels, as it says, “God is close to the brokenhearted” (Psalm 34:19); and it says “God heals the brokenhearted” (Psalm 147:3).

Sometimes we don’t use the best tools available. It can be frustrating. But using the rope instead of the iron reminds us of how we can do holy work with flawed instruments. Just like God can do holy work with the flawed instruments called people.

Today’s daf ends with a beautiful gem.

MISHNA: One may measure a Shabbat limit only with a rope fifty cubits long, no less and no more, as will be explained in the Gemara. And one may measure the limit only at the level of one’s heart, i.e., whoever comes to measure the limit must hold the rope next to his chest.

If one was measuring the limit and he reached a canyon or a fence, he spans it and then resumes his measurement. If one reached a hill, he does not measure its height; rather, he spans the hill as if it were not there and then resumes his measurement,(the gemara continues onto the next daf 58a)

GEMARA: We learned in the mishna: One may measure a Shabbat limit only with a rope fifty cubits long, not less and not more. It was taught in the Tosefta: No less, because a shorter rope improperly increases the Shabbat limit, as the rope is likely to be stretched. And no more, because a longer rope reduces the limit, as the rope is likely to sag due to its weight.

Why is this my gem? 1) We measure from our hearts. 2) no matter what our highs and lows may be, they should not distract us from our goals.

Today’s gem is just a reminder that we should live lives alligned with nature.

The Sages taught the following baraita: If, in order to measure the Shabbat limit, one comes to square a city, i.e., to extend the city’s boundaries to include all of its protrusions within an imaginary square, he squares it so that the sides of the square align with the four directions of the world. He sets the northern side of the square to align with the north of the world, and its southern side to align with the south of the world. And your sign by which you can recognize the directions of the world is as follows: The constellation of Ursa Major is in the north and Scorpio is in the south.

I loved the thought of always looking at the natural world and making sure you are building and living in alignment. We, too often, create and live in ways that ignore the world around us, or exploit it. We should remember that we are part of a larger ecosystem and live lives that respect and preserve the world’s natural balance.

Today’s gem is a lovely digression that get’s us in the mood for Simchat Torah this Friday:

And this idea, that one must exert great effort to retain one’s Torah knowledge, is in accordance with what Avdimi bar Ḥama bar Dosa said: What is the meaning of that which is written: “It is not in heaven…nor is it beyond the sea” (Deuteronomy 30:12–13)? “It is not in heaven” indicates that if it were in heaven, you would have to ascend after it, and if it were beyond the sea, you would have to cross after it, as one must expend whatever effort is necessary in order to study Torah.

Expounding the verse differently, Rava said: “It is not in heaven” means that Torah is not to be found in someone who raises his mind over it, like the heavens, i.e., he thinks his mind is above the Torah and he does not need a teacher; nor is it to be found in someone who expands his mind over it, like the sea, i.e., he thinks he knows everything there is to know about the topic he has learned.

Rabbi Yoḥanan said: “It is not in heaven” means that Torah is not to be found in the haughty, those who raise their self-image as though they were in heaven. “Nor is it beyond the sea” means that it is not to be found among merchants or traders who are constantly traveling and do not have the time to study Torah properly.

We see here some beautiful interpretations of a verse of Torah that teaches us that the Torah is very near to us – even in our mouths and hearts to do it. I love this because it shows us some of the variety of Torah interpretation and it teaches us what those particular rabbis thought got in the way of learning and understanding Torah: Those who think they don’t need others to learn, who think they’ve learned everything there is to know, think too highly of themselves, or don’t give Torah time.

I enjoy the humility expressed in this. These men are the greats of their age, and they know it. They remind themselves here that there is always more to learn – even on a well worn verse. If they will always have more to learn, all the more so we should believe that we have more to learn, no matter our level of learning.

Enjoy life. Be present. Live for today. “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift – that’s why it’s called the present. (Alice Morse Earle )”

A student of mine, a fine psychologist, once explained to me that when we fixate on the past, that leads to depression; when we fixate on the future, that leads to anxiety. When we try to be present, it leads to happiness.

When the world is crumbling, I am not so sure. However, I do think that being present in small moments – enjoying the crispness of an apple, letting music wash over you, walking outside and feeling the sun’s embrace, enjoying a laugh with a friend – these are all ways of being present that can bring deep and lasting joy.

Savour any moment of joy. You can’t take it with you. Enjoy it now. That’s one of the gems on today’s page:

Shmuel said to Rav Yehuda, his beloved student: Keen scholar, grab and eat, grab and drink, as the world from which we are departing is like a wedding feast, whose joy is only temporary, and one who does not take pleasure in it now will not be able to do so in the future.

Similarly, Rav said to Rav Hamnuna: My son, if you have money, do well for yourself. There is no point waiting, as there is no pleasure in the netherworld, and death does not tarry. And if you say: I will save up in order to leave for my children, who told you the law of the netherworld, i.e., how do you know which of you will die first (Arukh)? People are similar to grass of the field, in that these blossom, i.e., grow, and their actions are blessed, and these wither and die.

We only get one life. Yes, we should always be working towards making this world better for future generations – but we should enjoy it while we have it as well.

Wishing you a beautiful day with moments of being truly present.