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

One of my favorite moments on today’s daf imagines a strange scenario:

As it was stated: If one heard that a child was drowning at sea, and he spread a net to raise fish and the result was that he raised only fish, he is liable for transgressing the Shabbat prohibition of trapping. If he intended to raise fish, and he raised both fish and the child, Rava says: He is liable, as his intention was to transgress a prohibition, and Rabba says: He is exempt, as his act saved a life and was therefore permitted on Shabbat. And Rabba deemed him exempt only there, since the one who spread the net heard that a child had fallen in, and therefore we say that his intention in spreading the net was also to save the child. But had he not heard that the child had fallen in, he would not be exempt.

Rather, Rabba says that he is exempt because one follows his actions, whereas Rava says that he is liable because one follows his intention. Consequently, the same dispute applies to the case of two offerings.

The debate hinges on a profound question: Do we judge a person by their intentions or by their actions?
Rava focuses on intention—if the person meant to violate Shabbat by fishing, he is liable. Rabba focuses on the outcome—his action ultimately saved a life.

The spiritual message feels very real. In life, our motives are not always pure. Sometimes we do the right thing for mixed reasons. But this daf suggests that what ultimately matters is that a life was saved. Even imperfect intentions can lead to holy outcomes.

And sometimes, the most important thing is simply that someone provide a net.

I love today’s gem. It starts with a new mishnah that teaches us that if you promise to bring a meal sacrifice prepared in a “maḥavat ” then you can’t bring one prepared in a “marḥeshet.” What is the difference between a maḥavat and a marḥeshet? A marḥeshet has a cover, whereas a maḥavat does not have a cover; this is the statement of Rabbi Yosei HaGelili.

Now we get the Gemara which offers beautiful interpretations of these containers.

GEMARA: The Gemara inquires: As the Torah does not describe the different vessels, what is the reason for the interpretation of Rabbi Yosei HaGelili, explaining that a marḥeshet has a cover and a maḥavat does not have a cover? If we say that the term marḥeshet indicates that the offering comes to atone for the sinful musings [raḥashei] of the heart, as it is written: “My heart muses [raḥash] on a goodly matter” (Psalms 45:2), and therefore this meal offering must be prepared in a covered vessel just as the thoughts of the heart are hidden, this interpretation is insufficient. And if we say that the term maḥavat indicates that the offering comes to atone for transgressions committed with the corners of [ammaḥavo’ei] the mouth, as people say with regard to someone who speaks loudly: He is barking [minbaḥ nevuḥei], and therefore this meal offering must be prepared in an open vessel, this interpretation is also insufficient. The reason these interpretations are insufficient is that one can also say the opposite, and suggest that the name maḥavat indicates that the offering must be prepared in a closed vessel, as it comes to atone for the secret musings of the heart, as it is written that Laban said to Jacob: “Why did you flee secretly [naḥbeita]” (Genesis 31:27). Likewise, with regard to marḥeshet, one can say that it must be prepared in an open vessel, as it comes to atone for whispers [reḥushei] of the mouth which are heard and revealed, as people say: His lips were whispering [meraḥashan]. Therefore, Rabbi Yosei HaGelili cannot derive the meanings of the terms marḥeshet and maḥavat from the verses; rather, his interpretation is learned as a tradition.

I love the imagery here: That your sin offering has a covering to hide it’s contents just like the sins of your hart are hidden. That what you do publicly and say aloud must be uncovered. It’s beautiful and fitting.

But then it gets better!

The Gemara goes on to prove that you could find verses to argue the opposite. That’s why we need the law.

Amen.

As someone who interprets Torah for a living – it is easy to pick and choose verse to argue what I want. But is that what God wants? Is that the actual law?

The daf reminds us that it’s about God’s law at the end of the day – what God wants, not what we want.

Today’s daf teaches us something beautiful about how offerings were waved in the Temple. The Torah describes the owner of the sacrifice bringing the offering, but the priests also have a role. The Gemara explains how this worked:

The priest places his hands beneath the hands of the owner and waves the offering together with the owner.

The person bringing the offering does not stand alone. Their hands hold the sacrifice, but the priest’s hands are placed underneath, supporting the movement.

The spiritual message is powerful: no one has to approach holiness alone. Even when we bring our own offering—our prayers, our repentance, our gratitude—there are people helping to lift it up. Teachers, clergy, friends, and community place their hands beneath ours, steadying and guiding the offering as it rises.

Sometimes we are the one holding the offering. And sometimes our role is simply to place our hands underneath someone else’s and help with the lift.

It’s pretty amazing that we’ve made it 60 pages into menachot without discussing HOW to present the meal offering until today.

MISHNA: There are four categories of meal offerings: Those that require bringing near, a rite that requires the priests to carry the offering in their hands and bring it near the southwest corner of the altar, but do not require waving; those that require both bringing near and waving; those that require waving but not bringing near; and those that require neither waving nor bringing near.

“Waving” is surprisingly similar to shaking the lulav (as we do on the Jewish holiday of Sukkot) – you extend the offering front, right, back, left horizontally and then move it up then down. “Bringing near” means the priest takes the meal offering close to the southwest corner of the altar before removing the handful that will be burned.

Of course, what needs to be waved, brought near, both, or neither would be depicted best via Venn Diagram, but that didn’t work well yesterday.

The gem can be found in the fact that not every offering is brought the same way. The Torah seems comfortable with the idea that there are multiple paths to bringing something holy before God. Sometimes our service requires great motion and display, reaching in every direction. Other times, holiness is simply about drawing a little closer.

On our daf today, the rabbis outline what sacrifices are offered with frankincense, with oil, with both, and with neither.

MISHNA: There are four types of meal offerings: Those that require both oil and frankincense, those that require oil but not frankincense, those that require frankincense but not oil, and those that require neither frankincense nor oil. The mishna elaborates: And these are the meal offerings that require both oil and frankincense: The fine-flour meal offering, as it is stated: “And he shall pour oil upon it, and put frankincense thereon” (Leviticus 2:1); the meal offering prepared in a pan (see Leviticus 2:5–6); the meal offering prepared in a deep pan (see Leviticus 2:7–10); and the meal offering baked in an oven, which can be brought in the form of loaves or in the form of wafers (see Leviticus 2:4). Additional meal offerings that require both oil and frankincense are the meal offering of priests; the meal offering of the anointed priest, i.e., the griddle-cake offering brought by the High Priest every day, half in the morning and half in the evening; the meal offering of a gentile; a meal offering brought by women; and the omer meal offering (see Leviticus 23:15). The meal offering brought with libations that accompany burnt offerings and peace offerings requires oil but does not require frankincense. The shewbread requires frankincense but does not require oil. The two loaves brought on the festival of Shavuot (see Leviticus 23:17), the meal offering of a sinner, and the meal offering of jealousy brought by a sota require neither oil nor frankincense.

So, you know the gem is going to be . . . Venn diagram!!

(I asked Gemini to make it. Not quite right, but much faster then it would take me to make it myself haha)

Our daf today teaches that you cannot bring offerings with leaven or with honey in them. There is one exception for both – the loaves of Shavuot and perhaps the first fruits may have honey (which can be derived from fruit) but only as a garnish – not the main sacrifice.

So, the question is why can’t we bring leaven or honey as part of a sacrifice?

The Torah says: “No meal offering that you bring to the Lord shall be made with leaven; for you shall burn no leaven nor any honey as an offering made by fire to the Lord.” (Leviticus 2:11)

On the surface, this sounds like a technical ritual rule. But many commentators see something deeper.

Leaven inflates dough, and honey overpowers flavor with sweetness. The Sefer HaChinuch explains that the Temple service avoided things that dominate or exaggerate. Instead, offerings were meant to reflect balance and moderation.

The gem: The altar represents our attempt to bring our best selves before God. The prohibition of leaven and honey suggests that holiness is not found in excess—neither in arrogance that puffs us up nor in sweetness that hides reality. Instead, sacred life asks for humility, balance, and authenticity.

Once, when I was a kid, I took a big bite out of the raw chicken my mom had on the counter that was waiting to be seasoned. I didn’t get sick – but she almost did seeing me! It’s very important to cook your food, especially if it might have e-coli or bacteria. On our daf today, the rabbis are discussing not “working” while making food and the idea of meat maybe sitting on the fire and not being flipped (as that would qualify as work). In doing so we find out about a bandit who was always on the run. He was on the run so much he didn’t have time to fully cook his meat. This guy becomes a common term for meat that is only partially cooked.

Rabba bar bar Ḥana says that Rabbi Yoḥanan says: In the case of one who placed meat on top of coals on Shabbat, if he subsequently turned over the meat he is liable for cooking on Shabbat, and if he did not turn over the meat he is exempt. The Gemara asks: What are the circumstances of this case? If we say that this was a situation where if he does not turn over the meat it would not cook, then it is obvious that if he does not turn it over he is exempt. Rather, it must be referring to a case where even if he does not turn over the meat it would nevertheless cook. But if so, why isn’t he liable for merely placing the meat on the coals, despite the fact that he did not turn it over? The Gemara answers: No, it is necessary to state this halakha in a case where if he does not turn over the meat it would cook on one side only partially, roughly one-third of the ordinary process of cooking, like the food of ben Derosai. And now that he turns it over, it cooks on both sides like the food of ben Derosai. And Rabbi Yoḥanan teaches us that any meat roasted on only one side like the food of ben Derosai is nothing, i.e., this is not a violation of the prohibited labor of cooking on Shabbat. If it was roasted on both sides like the food of ben Derosai this is classified as cooking, and he is liable for cooking on Shabbat.

So, while the bandit didn’t wait for the meat to be fully cooked – he still wanted it to be partially cooked on both sides. Not like this Florida man who went over 100 days eating raw chicken.

Don’t try this at home. (Not even if it’s Shabbat an dyou didn’t pre-cook.)

Today’s gem focuses on the ancient practice of bloodletting.

In particular – the bloodletting of animals!

The Sages taught in a baraita (Tosefta, Bekhorot 3:6): In the case of an unblemished firstborn kosher animal whose blood circulation is constricted, a condition that can be healed only through bloodletting, one may let the animal’s blood by cutting it in a place where the incision does not cause a permanent blemish.

While the daf goes on to make the beautiful ruling that one should try to save the life of the animal, even if it means it will no longer be appropriate for sacrifice (gem worthy stuff), I couldn’t help being fascinated that they did bloodletting on animals. Clearly bloodletting must work in some situations, or it wouldn’t be something that was practiced for so long and even extended to animals.

While traditional bloodletting is considered ineffective and a dangerous practice, it has apparently evolved into a legitimate, evidence-based modern medical treatment known as “therapeutic phlebotomy.” It is highly effective for specific conditions, including:
1) Hemochromatosis: A genetic disorder causing iron overload.
2) Polycythemia vera: A condition characterized by excessive red blood cell production.
3) Porphyria cutanea tarda: A rare blood disorder.
4) Leeches: Used in modern reconstructive surgery to restore blood circulation.
5) Iron Reduction: Some evidence suggests it may help with certain cardiovascular issues by lowering blood pressure.

So, it’s dangerous, but did work sometimes, so that’s why it even appears in veterinary health.

Now, where can I find some leaches to help with my scars . . .