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

Today’s gem comes in the form of a mysterious demon called the “Daughter of the King”

A hand that frequently touches the eye causes blindness. A hand that frequently touches the ear causes deafness. A hand that touches the nose or mouth causes polyps [polypus]. It was taught in a baraita that Rabbi Natan says: She is a liberated entity, this evil spirit that rests on one’s hands before they are washed in the morning, and she refuses to leave until one washes his hands three times. Rabbi Yoḥanan said: When eye shadow is placed on the eyes it causes the evil spirit called the Daughter of the King to pass, and it stops tears and causes eyelashes to grow. That was also taught in a baraita: Rabbi Yosei says: Eye shadow causes the Daughter of the King to pass, and stops tears and causes eyelashes to grow.

This is not our first demon. Back in Berakhot we read:

Berakhot 51a:13

Rabbi Yishmael ben Elisha said: Suriel, the heavenly ministering angel of the Divine Presence, told me three things from on high: Do not take your cloak in the morning from the hand of your servant and wear it; do not ritually wash your hands from one who has not ritually washed his own hands; and only return a cup of asparagus to the one who gave it to you. Why is this? Because a band of demons and some say a band of angels of destruction lie in wait for a person and say: When will a person encounter one of these circumstances and be captured?

In rabbinical school, our professors would humor some of our more random questions. One of mine was: Do Jews do Exorcisms? In the movies it’s always Catholic Priests . . . are you stuck with a demon possessing you if the”power of Christ” does NOT “compel you”?

Open the world of Jewish angelology and demonology. We’ve got them all: Angel’s Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and more. Demons, we have Azazel, dybbuks, Satan, and this lovely Daughter of the King that’s on today’s page just to name a few.

Where did all this go?

Well, Judaism has evolved over the millenia, and about a millennium ago, rabbis worked very hard to show how rational it was to believe in Judaism, unlike some of the other faiths. A different emphasis was put on Jewish thought, practice, and understanding. As Rambam hinted at in his Guide for the Perplexed, ideas like bathroom demons (or the demon of not removing your eyeshadow before bed) were tools to help people behave in holy ways.

And this gets down to an important idea – does it matter if it’s true as long as believing something results in good behavior? Rationalism may have rid mainstream Jewish thought of bathroom demons, but it was a long time after saying it wasn’t “rational” to believe in bathroom demons that we discovered bacteria (the scientific understanding that results in the same behavior as believing in bathroom demons).

What other behaviors have we eschewed because rationalism tells us it’s not real, that science will later uncover as desirable behavior?

It’s happened for regular prayer. For mindful eating. For sining in community.

Religion may not always be rational – but it results in behaviors that are good for our health.

I am going to go to bed now, don’t worry. I washed my face so the Daughter of the King won’t get me.

Today’s gem is a text I have used in baby namings:

Karna also asked: From where is derived that circumcision is performed in that place? Rav answered him: It is stated here, with regard to circumcision: “And on the eighth day he shall circumcise the flesh of his foreskin [orlato]” (Leviticus 12:3), and it is stated there, with regard to recently planted trees: “And when you come to the land and plant all types of fruit trees, and you shall count the fruit thereof as forbidden [orlato]; three years shall it be as forbidden unto you, it shall not be eaten.” (Leviticus 19:23). Just as there is an item that bears fruit, here, too, orla is referring to an item that bears fruit. He asked him: Say that circumcision should be performed on one’s heart, as it is written: “And you shall circumcise the foreskin of [orlat] your heart” (Deuteronomy 10:16)? Say that circumcision should be performed on one’s ear, as it is written: “Behold, their ear is dull [areila] and they cannot listen” (Jeremiah 6:10)? Rav said to him: One derives the meaning of the complete form orlato from another instance of the complete form orlato; and one does not derive the complete form orlato from the incomplete form orlat, which modifies another word, as is also the case with the word areila.

While circumcision of the foreskin only applies to “that place” on a physiological male, circumcision of the heart and ears either applies to no one or everyone. Clearly we cannot circumcise these places. So, what can it mean? What can it teach us?

Before I answer, I also want to add in that when God asks Moses to speak to Pharoah a second time (Ex. 6:12)

וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר מֹשֶׁ֔ה לִפְנֵ֥י יְהוָ֖ה לֵאמֹ֑ר הֵ֤ן בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ לֹֽא־שָׁמְע֣וּ אֵלַ֔י וְאֵיךְ֙ יִשְׁמָעֵ֣נִי פַרְעֹ֔ה וַאֲנִ֖י עֲרַ֥ל שְׂפָתָֽיִם׃

Moses appealed to the LORD, saying, “The Israelites would not listen to me; how then should Pharaoh heed me, a man of impeded speech!”

Here it is translated as impeded speech, but the Hebrew says oral sifatayim, “uncircumcised (or forskinned) lips.”

So, there is a foreskin of the heart, the ear and the mouth. We learn from Moses, that they impede us from speaking justice to power, from speaking God’s word. Perhaps then the foreskin of the ear impedes us from hearing God’s word, or the cry of God’s people. And the foreskin of the heart allows us to protect our hearts from being moulded to reflect God’s love.

So, we cannot circumcise all the foreskins physically, but we can try, day after day, to do so metaphorically.

We circumcise our ears that we hear God’s cry and those of God’s creation. We circumcise our lips that we speak truth to power and give God’s call to justice a voice. And we circumcise our hearts, that they are always open to love and that they give love to God and God’s creations, including ourselves.

Levi raised a dilemma before Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi: From where is it derived that a wound is defined as something irreversible? He answered him that it is derived as it is written: “Can a Cushite change his skin, or a leopard its spots [ḥavarburotav]?” (Jeremiah 13:23). The Gemara explains: What does ḥavarburotav mean? If you say that they are spotted marks on the leopard’s skin, that phrase: Or a leopard its spots, should have been: Or a leopard its colors. Rather,ḥavarburotav means wounds, and they are similar to the skin of a Cushite: Just like the skin of a Cushite will not change its color to white, so too a wound is something that does not reverse.

A Cushite, in the Septuagint, as translated as an Ethiopian. Kush is an area in Egypt and Sudan. So, this is basically saying, “can a black person change their skin?”

Offended?

Well, there is lots to be offended about. Just as our text has these gems, it has pieces that are uncomfortable – to put it lightly.

As a rabbi and woman, I often read the text and am offended by the treatment of women. But the Torah? The Torah is different. When we are hearing the voice of God, it’s one of love, all being created in the image of the Divine. When we hear things that are classist (we had that two dafs ago), racist, sexist, agist – well . . . those are usually the words of men – smart men, learned men – but also human, prejudiced, everyday men.

While I am not trying to apologize or white wash our text – I do like that the black individual cannot change their skin in the same way a wound that is too deep cannot reverse. When we create these categories of race and say one is better than the other – we create a wound. When we say that a man is naturally dominant over woman – we create a wound. When we say that Torah stays with those who are rich – we create a wound.

And so much Torah contradicts these statement. So much Torah tells us otherwise. Torah tells us that we all come from one common ancestor, that we are one family, and that no one’s blood is redder than her fellows. Torah tells us that “Male and Female God created them.” That women are kenedgo – mirrors to men. Torah tells us that our leaders come from slave stock, shepherd stock, widows and converts.

It’s we who make these boundaries and call the boundaries holy.

God says, B.S.

And Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: If one of the brothers dies,  all of the brothers should be concerned, lest their death be approaching. Similarly, if one member of a group dies, the entire group should be concerned. Some say the concern is greatest if the eldest dies. And some say the concern is greatest if the youngest dies.

This gem, from the very last line of 105 onto the top of 106 really stuck with me. The first thing doctors do is take our family history, see what illnesses we might be predisposed to. As a breast cancer survivor, I know that, even though I have no gene, my children and my sister are all now in a different category when they check off that intake form.

But it’s not just family, it’s the whole group. BRCA is a huge indicator of breast and ovarian cancer risk. Today, approximately 1 in 40 individuals [of Ashkenazi background] has a mutation in BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes as compared to 1 in 800 individuals of non-Ashkenazi Jewish background. “If a member of the group dies, the entire group should be concerned.”

But it’s not just cancer.

When 5 Haredi Jews were stabbed in an attack on Hanukkah in Muncie, all Jews were concerned. Anti-Semitism continues to rise, we are all concerned.

But it’s not just Jews. That’s why we are on our 24th day of protests.

The gem is that, while death may be individual, the loss is collective, and the danger does not end with burial. We should look for patterns and protect our community.

Today’s gem comes in a conversation of tearing on Shabbat. But a special kind of tearing – k’riah, the rending of clothing mourners perform when they hear of the death of a loved one. The immediate family is exempt and are allowed to tear. But what if it’s not a family member? What if it’s a leader? a teacher?

And if the dead person is a Torah scholar, one is obligated to rend one’s garment in anguish over his death, as it was taught in a baraita: When a Torah scholar dies, everyone is his relative. The Gemara asks: Does it enter your mind that everyone is his relative? Rather, say: Everyone is like his relative, in the sense that everyone rends his garment in anguish over him, and everyone bares his shoulder over him in mourning, and everyone eats the mourner’s meal over him in the public square as mourners do. . . The Gemara asks: And if he was an upright person, aren’t all those present at his death obligated to rend their garments over his death?

When we lose a teacher, when we lose someone we admire, it’s a real loss. We are torn. We truly mourn. So too, when a good person is taken from this earth, we mourn – sometimes even if we didn’t know them, but only knew of their goodness.

Right now our country is in mourning. We have had, as a nation, 121, 694 deaths due to Covid19. We mourn. We have witnessed video footage of the murders of George Floyd, Aumaud Arbery, and now Rayshard Brooks. We mourn.

And even if we have no relationship to any of those who have died. We feel like we have lost a family member.

It’s okay to tear. It’s okay to mourn. God counts our tears (it is not lost on me that, in English tearing (crying) are tearing (rending) are the same). This daf also says Rabbi Shimon ben Pazi said that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said in the name of Bar Kappara: Anyone who sheds tears over an upright person, the Holy One, Blessed be He, counts his tears and places them in His treasury, as it is stated: “You have counted my wanderings, put my tears into your bottle, are they not in your book?” (Psalms 56:9).

Gorgeous page. The gems coming from children explaining the alef bet. The whole page is gorgeous, but I will include the first few letters and the last two:

 א ב ג ד

Alef beit means learn [elaf] the wisdom [bina] of the Torah.
Gimmel dalet means give to the poor [gemol dalim]. Why is the leg of the gimmel extended toward the dalet? Because it is the manner of one who bestows loving-kindness to pursue the poor. And why is the leg of the dalet extended toward the gimmel? It is so that a poor person will make himself available to him who wants to give him charity. And why does the dalet face away from the gimmel? It is to teach that one should give charity discreetly so that the poor person will not be embarrassed by him.

If we learn the wisdom of the Torah, we will end up giving to the poor. And we can learn from the letters how we should give – with the giver looking to give, eager to help, and without embarrassing the receiver (or even needing to know their face).

ש ת

Shin: Falsehood [sheker]. Tav: Truth [emet].
Why are the letters of the word sheker adjacent to one another in the alphabet, while the letters of emet are distant from one another (it’s the first, middle, and last letters of the alef, bet)? That is because while falsehood is easily found, truth is found only with great difficulty. And why do the letters that comprise the word sheker all stand on one foot, and the letters that comprise the word emet stand on bases that are wide like bricks? Because the truth stands eternal and falsehood does not stand eternal.

The Hebrew word for lie is formed by three letters that all come in a row in the alphabet. We learn from this that lying is easy, but that it’s easily toppled. But the Hebrew word for truth is the first, middle, and last letter of the Hebrew alphabet. This shows that while it might be harder to speak the truth – it has a good foundation.

Today’s daf has a strange line that begs to be interpreted: Rav Aḥa bar Ya’akov said: There is no poverty in a place of wealth.

Now, according to Rashi, this is a comment on the abundance of materials brought to build the tablernacle.

But for us, living in one of the wealthiest countries in the world – what does this teach us?

Is it a slap in the face about how the wealthy create buildings and neighborhoods where the poor are unwelcome?

Is it a slap in the face of how our wealthy society doesn’t see or value the poor?

Is it a slap in the face that in a country that throws away 1/4 of all produced food that we still have millions who go to bed hungry? who are food insecure?

Is it a slap in the face that as our GDP continues to rise, so does the number of those in poverty?

Is it a slap in the face that the poor die from experiencing worse effects from environmental issues, health issues . . . to put it another way, poverty is lethal?

Shabbat 101 has a good burn on the page:

Rava said: This mishna was necessary only to permit carrying from one boat to another via a small boat that is between them.Rav Safra said to him:Moses, did you speak well? We learned in the mishna that one may carry only from one to the other, not via a small boat. Rather, Rav Safra said: The mishna was only necessary to obligate one to place an eiruv to permit carrying from one to the other.

Rav Safra calls out Rava saying: Moses, did you speak well? Rashi explains that he is saying, Rava! You’re as great in our generation as Moses was in his and this is what you’re teaching!?!?

It’s like saying “good one Einstein.”

But besides the burn and the humor and humanness of two colleagues insulting one another – this has a lot to teach (I think). When do our words reflect well on our people? Our families? When do our words do a service and when do they do a disservice?

May God guide our tongues to be good reflections of the Divine, and when we don’t, may we find good colleagues who will lovingly call us out.

Rava raised a dilemma: In a case where there is a nut in a vessel and the vessel is floating on water, what is the ruling? Is it permitted to lift the nut on Shabbat if one is in another domain? The two sides of the dilemma are: Do we say that we go according to the status of the nut, and it is at rest in the vessel? Or perhaps we go according to the status of the vessel, and it is not at rest. No resolution was found to this dilemma. Therefore, let it stand.

A metaphor for today, another day of protest.

Most of us think about racism as being something done by a racist person, someone who is actively performing a racist act. But most often, racism is done by individuals who do not think themselves racist, but who are part of a system. Often, we are unaware of the racist system we are participating in, because it holds us afloat.

We are like the nut. Not actively swimming in the pool of racism, but floating upon a vessel that floats upon it, and if we are white – we are buoyed by that racist system. Our status is to hard to call.

If we want to define ourselves as not racist – we have be become conscious of the system and actively fight to dismantle it – and yes, swim upstream.

Today’s gem comes from Rav Mordekhai, he, like we, read this Mishnah and felt that it’s ruling was unsatisfactory – he wanted more of an explanation as to the thinking behind it. He goes from rabbi to rabbi and asks why the rule is the way it is – and is responded to again and again with – it’s because that’s what the Mishnah says.

His reply to this is great “You are all spewing the same spittle.”

How true is this in life? We don’t ask how things came to be the way they are. Why are the laws this way? What’s behind it? And often we get the unsatisfying response that “it is what it is”. It’s spewing spittle.

I am thinking of this in terms of the revolution happening in demanding a change in the way we police. It’s hard for people to imagine anything different than what we have inherited. We are told – this is justice. Why? Because that’s what the law says. But why? What’s the history? How did the law get to be this way?

If we dare to answer these questions with more than – it is what it is or because that’s what the law says – we might see that the foundation on which these laws were built (in the case of our American justice system) were based on white supremacy.

The gem? Don’t just accept things as they are. Don’t just regurgitate what you’re told. Research, ask why, and stop spewing spittle.

“Rava said to Rav Mordekhai: It is our mishna that states that one who places an object atop a boulder that is more than ten handbreadths high is liable. Rav Mordekhai came and asked Rav Yosef about the same dilemma: Rav Yosef said to him: It is our mishna. Rav Mordekhai came and asked Abaye. He said to him: It is our mishna. Rav Mordekhai said to them: You are all spewing the same spittle. “