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

Ever wonder why chicken parm isn’t kosher? Afterall, chickens don’t lactate, so the whole “kid in its mother’s milk” law from Torah does not apply. Well, today’s gem is from Rabbi Yosei HaGelili who makes this argument amidst a discussion over a dish with peacock heads in dairy.

The Gemara relates: Levi happened to come to the house of Yosef the hunter. They served him the head of a peacock [tavsa] in milk and he did not eat. When Levi came before Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, the latter said to him: Why did you not excommunicate these people who eat poultry in milk, contrary to the decree of the Sages? Levi said to him: It was in the locale of Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira, and I said: Perhaps he taught them that the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yosei HaGelili, who permits the eating of poultry meat in milk.

As we learned in a mishna, Rabbi Yosei HaGelili says: It is stated in the verse: “You shall not eat anything that dies of itself; to the stranger at your gates you may give it, that he may eat it; or you may sell it to a foreigner; for you are a holy people to the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 14:21), and it is stated later in the same verse: “You shall not cook a kid in its mother’s milk.” From the juxtaposition of the two issues it is derived: That which is prohibited due to the prohibition against eating an unslaughtered animal, it is prohibited to cook it in milk. The prohibition against cooking a creature in milk is not limited to only a kid. If so, with regard to poultry, which is prohibited due to the prohibition against eating an unslaughtered animal, I might have thought it should be prohibited to cook it in milk; therefore, the verse states: “In its mother’s milk.” This excludes poultry, which does not have mother’s milk and is therefore not included in the prohibition.

So, the Talmud records this differing opinion against “normative” halakhah which says poultry cannot be consumed with dairy. Here, we see that there was at least one rabbi who did not agree, and that people who followed that rabbi were not held liable.

You might think, given that these opinions were written and edited over many years, that at some point, an editor might have removed this minority opinion – but no! The Talmud is about how to live a good life that is built around what we believe God asks of us. So, we keep the minority opinion, because the majority might not be right.

I no longer eat meat, so I don’t have to worry about this, but I used to love chicken parm.

 מִשָּׁעָה שֶׁתֵּשֵׁב עַל הַמַּשְׁבֵּר

Gem of the day: From when is it considered that the opening of the womb has begun? Abaye says: It begins from when the woman sits on the travailing chair.

Travailing chair, or birthing stool. Go paste the Hebrew word for it into google translate: מַּשְׁבֵּר. I’ll wait.

It doesn’t say birthing stool, or “travailing chair.” It says, “crisis.”

That’s right, the Hebrew word for crisis is the same as a birthing stool.

What can this teach us? What can be born from our crisis?

Birthing involves, growing changing, evolving, and often, tearing, opening, tears. We can transform crisis. When we experience it, we can remind ourselves – we are at the birthing stool, all we need to do now is not give up and push, push, push.

We think of crisis as only bad – but it’s also a moment where something new can come into the world.

I am not always good at asking for what I want. Often, when I am counseling couples, this is the one thing they need to learn how to do – how to articulate what they want and really ask for it. We get wishy washy, we might hint, of just resent our partners when they don’t read our minds or just intuit what we need. But that’s not fair.

Now, after over 100 dapim (that’s the plural of daf) on what you can’t do on Shabbat, or what you can do as long as it’s done in a strange manner, we get this gem about a woman in labor on Shabbat:

Mishna: And one may birth a woman even on Shabbat, and call a midwife for her to travel from place to place, even when the midwife’s travel involves the desecration of Shabbat. And one may desecrate Shabbat for a woman giving birth. And one may tie the umbilical cord of a child born on Shabbat. Rabbi Yosei says: One may even cut the umbilical cord. And all the requirements of circumcision may be performed for a baby whose eighth day of life occurs on Shabbat.

Late the Gemara adds:

And one may desecrate Shabbat for a woman giving birth, what does it come to include? The Gemara answers: It comes to include that which the Sages taught with regard to this issue: If a woman giving birth were to need a lamp, her friend lights the lamp for her on Shabbat. And if she were to need oil, her friend brings her oil via the public domain in an atypical manner, carrying it in the palm of her hand but not in a vessel. And if the oil that her friend brings in her hand is not enough, she brings oil in her hair. And if oil that she brings in her hair is not enough, she brings oil for her in the typical manner, in a vessel.

Okay, so far we have that we can break the regular Shabbat rules of not kindling a lamp or carrying oil in a vessel for the laboring woman, but now it gets interesting.

The Master said in the baraita: If a woman giving birth were to need a lamp, her friend would light the lamp for her on Shabbat. The Gemara asks: This is obvious. (so why do we need it?) The Gemara answers: It is necessary to teach this halakha only in the case of a blind woman giving birth. Lest you say: Since she cannot see even with the light it is prohibited to bring a lamp for her, it teaches us that lighting the lamp is permitted to settle her mind. The blind woman thinks: If there is something that needs to be done in the course of childbirth, the lamp will enable my friend to see and she will do it for me.

So, here, the blind laboring woman cannot enjoy the light of the lamp, but she wants it there so she can feel confident that those around her can aid her if she needs them.

I like this because it’s essentially saying, if she says that this is what she wants – don’t rationalize her request away. Dont’ tell yourself, well, she doesn’t really need that. No! This isn’t about you, it’s about her, and what she needs. And if she says she needs a light even though she can’t see it, so be it. If she wants to hear music, if she wants to walk – just let her do her thing.

In assertiveness exercises, I have people practice saying what they want and how they would feel if they received what they want. The job of the actively listening partner is to say: I hear you saying that you would like ___________ and that if ___________ were to happen you would feel _________.

End of exercize.

Looks easy, but you would be amazed at how hard it is for us as humans to really just listen and hear what our partners are saying without jumping to why they don’t really mean that/want that in our heads.

So today I get two lessons from this 1) practice saying what you want and practice listening to what others say they want and 2) if a woman is in labor, just do what needs to be done.

Oh! This daf is full of gems! One of my favorite prayers is discussed (Eilu Devarim, for a great book on this prayer read, The Happiness Prayer by Evan Moffic). But since there are three incredible stories about the middah of Machrio L’Chaf Zechut, judging others favorably, I will go with the middah.

We tend to judge others harshly for their actions. If someone is speeding, and weaving in and out of traffic, we might think they are reckless and selfish. If we see an Orthodox man walking into McDonalds, we might think him a hypocrite.

Mussar teacher Alan Morinis points out that in most cases, we are filling in the blanks for the individual we are judging; filling in the blanks with our own personal negative judgements. (That driver? Ego-maniac who thinks of no one’s safety. That man – hypocrite, probably ordering a Big Mac right now.) Machrio L’Chaf Zechut teaches us to fill in the blanks with a positive story, an explanation for the behavior that puts the person we are observing in a positive light. (For example, that driver might be rushing their pregnant wife to the hospital. That Orthodox man likely just needs to use the restroom.)

It’s a fun practice, and one I invite you to make a habit: when you see a behavior that makes you leap to judgement, make up a positive story.

Here are three instances of this on today’s daf. And, oh, are they juicy! The first has to do with withholding wages, the second and third with percieved sexual impropriety.

Scene 1: The Sages taught: One who judges another favorably is himself judged favorably. And there was an incident involving a certain person who descended from the Upper Galilee and was hired to work for a certain homeowner in the South for three years. On the eve of the Day of Atonement, he said to the homeowner: Give me my wages, and I will go and feed my wife and children. The homeowner said to him: I have no money. He said to him: In that case, give me my wages in the form of produce. He said to him: I have none. The worker said to him: Give me my wages in the form of land. The homeowner said to him: I have none. The worker said to him: Give me my wages in the form of animals. He said to him: I have none. The worker said to him: Give me cushions and blankets. He said to him: I have none. The worker slung his tools over his shoulder behind him and went to his home in anguish.

After the festival of Sukkot, the homeowner took the worker’s wages in his hand, along with a burden that required three donkeys, one laden with food, one laden with drink, and one laden with types of sweets, and went to the worker’s home. After they ate and drank, the homeowner gave him his wages.

The homeowner said to him: When you said to me: Give me my wages, and I said: I have no money, of what did you suspect me? Why did you not suspect me of trying to avoid paying you? The worker answered, I said: Perhaps the opportunity to purchase merchandise [perakmatya] inexpensively presented itself, and you purchased it with the money that you owed me, and therefore you had no money available. The homeowner asked: And when you said to me: Give me animals, and I said: I have no animals, of what did you suspect me? The worker answered: I said: Perhaps the animals are hired to others. The homeowner asked: When you said to me: Give me land, and I said: I have no land, of what did you suspect me? The worker answered: I said: Perhaps the land is leased to others, and you cannot take the land from the lessees. The homeowner asked: And when you said to me: Give me produce, and I said: I have no produce, of what did you suspect me? The worker answered: I said: Perhaps they are not tithed, and that was why you could not give them to me. The homeowner asked: And when I said: I have no cushions or blankets, of what did you suspect me? The worker answered: I said: Perhaps he consecrated all his property to Heaven and therefore has nothing available at present.

The homeowner said to him: I swear by the Temple service that it was so. I had no money available at the time because I vowed and consecrated all my property on account of Hyrcanus, my son, who did not engage in Torah study. The homeowner sought to avoid leaving an inheritance for his son. And when I came to my fellow residents in the South, the Sages of that generation, they dissolved all my vows. At that point, the homeowner had immediately gone to pay his worker. Now the homeowner said: And you, just as you judged favorably, so may God judge you favorably.

Scene 2: The Sages taught in a baraita: There was an incident involving a certain pious man who redeemed a young Jewish woman from captivity. When they arrived at the inn he had her lie beneath his feet. The next day, he descended, and immersed in a ritual bath to purify himself before Torah study and prayer, and taught his students. (This conduct could arouse suspicion that the pious man kept the maiden for himself, as immersion in the morning is customary for men who have experienced a seminal emission by engaging in sexual relations.)

And the pious man said to his students: When I had her lie beneath my feet, of what did you suspect me? They said to him: We said: Perhaps there is a student among us whose conduct is not established before the rabbi, and he wanted to make certain that this student would not inappropriately accost the young woman. Therefore, the rabbi kept the woman close by.

He said to them: When I descended and immersed, of what did you suspect me? They answered: Perhaps due to the exertion of travel, a seminal emission befell the rabbi. He said to them: I swear by the Temple service that it was so. And you, just as you judged me favorably, so may God judge you favorably.

Scene 3: The Sages taught a similar baraita: Once there was a certain matter needed by Torah scholars. They wanted to discuss an issue with a certain matron whose company was kept by all the prominent people of Rome. They said: Who will go? Rabbi Yehoshua said to them: I shall go.

Rabbi Yehoshua and his students went to her. When he arrived with his students at the entrance of her house, he removed his phylacteries at a distance of four cubits from the door, and entered, and locked the door before them. After he emerged, he descended and immersed in a ritual bath, and taught his students. (Did the rbabi just get laid? Or . . . )

And he said to his students: When I removed the phylacteries, of what did you suspect me? They said to him, we said: The rabbi must hold that sacred items may not enter a place of impurity. Therefore, it would have been inappropriate to enter the house with phylacteries.

He asked: When I locked the door, of what did you suspect me? They said to him: We said: Perhaps there is a discreet royal matter that must be discussed between him and her and should not be revealed.

Rabbi Yehoshua asked: When I descended and immersed, of what did you suspect me? They said to him, we said: Perhaps a bit of spittle sprayed from her mouth onto the rabbi’s clothes. Rabbi Yehoshua said to them: I swear by the Temple service that it was so. And you, just as you judged favorably, so may God judge you favorably.

In her article about today’s daf for My Jewish Learning, my friend, Rabbi Sari Laufer, makes and observation I woudl love to build off of for my gem today.

Sari says https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/shabbat-126/: Citing an earlier mishnah, our Gemara makes the following statement:

With regard to a bolt that is dragged, which is not a part of the door itself but is attached to it and is dragged on the ground, one locks with it in the Temple on Shabbat, because the rabbinic decrees are not in effect in the Temple, but not in the rest of the country outside the Temple. And a bolt that is placed alongside the door and not attached, here, in the Temple, and there, outside the Temple, it is prohibited to lock with it on Shabbat. Rabbi Yehuda says: One that was placed is permitted in the Temple and one that is dragged is permitted even in the rest of the country.

“The subtext, of course, is that the rules in the Temple — which at this point are mostly mythic memory — could be laxer. Because the priests were so vigilant in their observance of the mitzvot, they were largely exempt from rabbinic prohibitions on Shabbat. Here, we see this distinction made, but layered with a fascinating cultural commentary. Scholars of biblical and rabbinic history note that the laws and discussions around Shabbat, and particularly around the halachot of items set aside for Shabbat, are particularly stringent — the rabbis did not trust the people. And, over the course of the centuries — and within the text itself — the people proved themselves. The questions, the anecdotes, and the answers shifted as the rabbis saw that the people took Shabbat seriously.

“I have seen a lot of social media of late talking about the strength and courage it takes to change one’s mind, to see things through a new lens or with new information. I am moved by the concept that it is actually a courageous act, and a brave step — and I am bolstered by our Sages’ ability to do it throughout the text, in lively debate and thoughtful dialogue.”

She has me thinking about what it means to change your mind.

So often, for those in the public eye, when one changes their mind they are deeped a flip-flop. And there is something amiss about those who are able to change their opinions easily to suite popular thought (like Aaron Buhr in the Broadway production of Hamilton).

But what does it say about us is we NEVER change our minds?

Do you still believe all the things you believed as a child? O fcourse not. And when our knowledge changes the way we act should change as well.

I thought it was weird that a boy might love another boy, or a girl a girl, until my best friend came out in middle school. I loved her, b both before and after she told me. With one conversation, my whole perspective changed and I have been an advocate for the LGBTQ community ever sense.

I used to believe that only bad people went to jail, again, until I started learning that people I love and admire have been arrested (and not just at protests). Now I know that we are all more than our worst moments, and that just because you have been convicted of a crime, that doesn’t mean you 1) committed the crime or 2) you should be defined by that crime. We are all so much more. And so now I advocate for criminal justice reform.

This has happened countless times in my life. I change constantly. I wonder what beliefs I hold now that I will look back on and think “I was so wrong.”

In our daf, the rabbis see that the world is different than they believed it to be, and so they adjust the laws to reflect their new perspective on society.

One of my favorite quotes about this is from George Bernard Shaw, “Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.”

So don’t worry about changing your mind, it’s how we will change the world.

Ronald McCormick, an archery coach, received special training by the international Archery Academy where he studied Korean Olympic Archery, he reports:

“What do all these archers do when training? Nothing surprising at all, just lots of it. Lots of focus on improving scores. One interesting thing they do is shoot a round with empty hands and just visualize the shot. During this round they keep score just as if they were shooting arrows. They score themselves based on how they feel the shot would score. When finished they will shoot and score a round with arrows. Very often the two scores will have just a few points difference. The object is to learn what a 10 feels like.”

On today’s daf, there is a strange passage: Once Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi went to one place and found a course of building stones, and he said to his students: Go out and think that you are designating these stones for Shabbat so that we may sit on them tomorrow on Shabbat.

He does not (although, of course, the gemara debates it) make them DO anything. Just stop and visualize. This seems to be enough to change the status of the rock from those the students cannot sit on to those they can sit on.

It’s all about visualization.

James Kouzes and Barry Posner, the authors of, The Leadership Challenge, write about what it takes to achieve our dreams, whether they be personal or for an organization. They promote the use of visualization techniques for all of us, not only athletes (or yeshiva students who want to sit on Shabbat). They say “visions are about possibilities, about desired futures. They’re ideals, standards of excellence. As such, they are expressions of optimism and hope.”

So, how do we use this tool? Well, what do you want in life? This important question is one we overlook all to often. So, ask yourself now and reflect on it later – what is it that you really want?

Knowing what you want, you can picture it in your future. I’m going to ask you now to picture where you want to be five years from now. Do not focus on what is probable, what is likely to happen if you don’t make any changes, but really push yourself to imagine what is possible. Five years from now . . . where are you? What are you filling your days with? What is your relationship like with your family? Who are your friends? What do you look like? How do you feel? How does the air feel? What are the sounds that surround you? What does it smell like? Taste like?

Visualize. Think.

Once we can see it, imagine it, we can move towards it – it becomes possible.

As R. Kelly wrote (and I searched for another song, but this is just the one that fits. So, while I am admiring and sharing his lyrics – please know I do not admire this man who abused women):

If I can see it, then I can do it
If I just believe it, there’s nothing to it

I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread my wings and fly away
I believe I can soar
I see me running through that open door
I believe I can fly

You can do it. Now, I am going to “go out and think” about where I want to relax this Shabbat. . . and maybe where I want to be in 5 years.

Rav Mari bar Raḥel, had felt cushions in the sun on Shabbat. Rav Mari came before Rava and said to him: What is the ruling with regard to carrying them? Rava said to him: It is permitted. Rav Mari said to Rava: I have others, and I do not need these cushions specifically. Rava said to him: Even so, these cushions are suitable for guests. Rav Mari said to him: I also have others for guests and therefore would be moving the cushions so that they would not be ruined in the sun. Rava said to him: You have revealed your opinion that you hold in accordance with the opinion of Rabba. For everyone else, it is permitted to move the cushions in this situation; however, for you, it is prohibited, as it is inappropriate to permit one to perform an action that he considers prohibited.

It seems like Rav Mari is asking a question because he wants to know the answer, but then when he is given his answer, he provides more details! when the answer doesn’t change, he tells even more, perhaps now the ruling will change? Well, Rava realizes that Rav Mari clearly thinks that he should not be able to move his cushions and is not really asking him to give an opinion, but only to confirm his own opinion.

Interesting. We do that a lot don’t we? Ask “questions” – questions being in quotes because they’re not questions in their nature, we are not seeking the true answer, we are seeking the answer we already believe in, the one we want to hear.

This is a gem because I think it is a lesson in life – if all you want is for people to confirm your already held beliefs – don’t pretend that you’re actually curious about what they have to say – you’re curious about what you have to say, that’s it!

Also, here, we see that Rava wants to be lenient, but when he sees that Rav Mari already has a differing view, he says – well, that’s the law you have to follow then. We shouldn’t compromise our principles. We should do what we believe is “right”, not what is popular or convenient.

Today’s gem comes from the idea of trying to use tools in new and innovative ways. Our daf discussed how a tool whose primary function would be prohibited on Shabbat, like a saw cutting down a tree – can be used in a way that is not normally associated with it’s usage – like using that saw to cut a slice of cheese.

I think about that a lot recently. We are using Facebook, originally meant to help college kids see who is single and who is coupled, in new and innovative ways – to market programs and to stream our worship services. We are using our computers, originally meant for computation, then for writing and sending mail, as ways to hang out with friends and play games with others.

Some of my favorite art in the world is from those who have used mediums associated with one space for another (check out faces made from fruits and vegetables).

While this can also end in catastrophe (Zyklon-B being the most extreme example), it does open up worlds.

What tools do you have? How could they be used in a different way? What if you looked at them and did not know what they were intended for – would you comb your hair with a fork like the Little Mermaid? Would you see new possibilities? What doors can you open up? Not just on Shabbat, but every day?

Today’s gem: A lamp for one is the light of a lamp for one hundred people.

I love this because it reminds me of one of my favorite yiddishisms – there is a yiddish expression which roughly translates to “A rich man in a fur coat.”

There is a comparison between a rich person and how they warm themselves up. One man buys a fur coat. He is nice and warm. Another man, buys himself some wood for a fire and warms himself and invited everyone else to come and warm themselves as well.

We live in a society where there is a lot of false scarcity. There are so many things in life that we can give away without it diminishing what we have – light (like in the gemara), knowledge, love.

Come warm yourself by my fire.

When I was a student rabbi serving Gaucher College, I walked into Hillel on Shabbat to find my class waiting for me . . . in complete darkness. “Why are you all sitting in the dark?”

“It’s Shabbat, we can’t turn on the lights. But if someone wanted to be able to see . . .”

Oh. I was totally being asked to be the Shabbat Goy.

That leads me to today’s gem.

GEMARA: Rabbi Ami said: During a fire, the Sages permitted to say in the presence of gentiles: Anyone who extinguishes the fire will not lose. . . If a gentile comes to extinguish a Jew’s fire on Shabbat, one may not say to him: Extinguish, and: Do not extinguish . . . It is a direct command, e.g., extinguish, that we may not say to him; however, we may tell him: anyone who extinguishes will not lose.

Yep. Shabbat goy. I can’t tell her to break Shabbat for me, but I can hint at it!

Makes me nauseous. I have never liked the dissonance of saying something is a sin for ME to do but fine for YOU . . . so please do it for me. So, I liked the story that came after this text:

The Sages taught in a baraita: There was an incident that a fire ignited on Shabbat in the courtyard of Yosef ben Simai in a place called Shiḥin. And men came from the fortress of Tzippori to extinguish the fire, because he was a steward of the king and they wanted to help him. However, Yosef ben Simai would not allow them to extinguish the fire in deference to Shabbat.

See that? He didn’t hint that they “won’t lose” if they put out his fire. He says – it’s Shabbat. If I cannot put out the fire because it’s Shabbat, you shouldn’t have to either.

And what happens?

And a miracle transpired for him and rain fell and extinguished the fire. That evening after Shabbat he sent two sela to each one of the soldiers who came to his aid, and fifty to their commander.

He didn’t ask the to put it out, and a miracle happens – the fire goes out from a sudden torrential rainfall. And even though the men did not put out the fire, he rewards them for being good neighbors and wanting to help him! Do the Sages celebrate this? Nope.

And when the Sages heard about this, they said: He need not have prevented them from extinguishing the fire, as we learned in the mishna: If a gentile comes to extinguish a Jew’s fire on Shabbat, one may not say to him: Extinguish, and: Do not extinguish, because responsibility for his rest is not incumbent upon the Jew; rather, the gentile may do as he pleases.

I think they miss the point. (Or maybe I miss the point, because I certainly would try to put out the fire.) What I take from this is to not be a hypocrite. We read in Exodus (and again in Numbers) “One law shall be for the native-born and for the stranger who dwells among you.”

Sure, if someone who is not Jewish wants to do their own thing on Shabbat, we shouldn’t hold them to our standards. But hinting passively at wanting them to break Shabbat for our benefit – that doesn’t sit right with me, that’s having different laws for us and for the stranger.

But who am I to talk? All those years ago when my students were waiting for me in the dark to learn? I turned on the light.