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

Today’s gem is a throwback to the days of hiding money in your mattress.

“Rav Yehuda said Rav said: A bed which one designated to place money upon it may not be moved . .. Rav Yehuda said Rav said: A bed that one designated for money to be placed upon it, if one left money upon it, it is prohibited to move it on Shabbat. If one did not leave money upon it, it is permitted to move it on Shabbat. A bed, which one did not designate for money to be placed upon it, if there is money upon it on Shabbat itself, it is prohibited to move it on Shabbat. If there is not money on it, it is permitted to move it.“

What’s the deal? When I first read this, I couldn’t help but wonder about putting money on the bed – in today’s world, it has a promiscuous connotation; but clearly, by reading this passage, we see that it is more likely a situation where someone is hiding money in the mattress, or under the pillow. We cannot carry money on Shabbat, but a bed can be moved to create space or comfort. Once the bed has money though – we would be intentionally, or unintentionally, carrying money on Shabbat.

The Tosafot commentary (on the side of the page on a traditional daf of Talmud) concludes that what really matters is whether one intends to move the bed or the money. As MyJewishLearning.com notes, “If one is really only interested in moving the bed and the money comes along for the ride, it is permitted. But if one’s purpose in moving the bed was to sneakily relocate the money which is muktzeh, it’s a no-go. Once again, intention matters.”

I can’t help but think of this in contrast to what we read yesterday of how you can move a dead body if you put a loaf of bread, or an infant, on it. Seems very inconsistent. But maybe that’s the point. Reading yesterday’s daf, I might have carried money by putting it on a bed and carrying it around – because it’s permitted to move the mattress and it’s very weird. But this is saying: Don’t fool yourself. Don’t carry money.

Traditional Jews don’t carry money to this day on Shabbat. I remember a few years ago when a traditional Jewish man was attacked on Shabbat. The mugger didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t have money on him. For many reasons, that man shoudl study Talmud.

Oy, what a page. Winning for weird is today’s gem – that you cannot move a dead body on Shabbat, but if you put either a loaf of bread, or an infant on the body – then you can move it since it is permissible to move both of those items.

It seems so obvious that one should just be able to move the body to show respect for the dead. But our rabbis want us to make Shabbat special. To keep the rules as much as possible. So? If you need to break a Shabbat rule – you better make it super weird, so it does not become a habit.

I guess the message in the weird is: It should be weird to bend or break Shabbat rules, it should make us uncomfortable.

Well, this certainly made me uncomfortable!

Today’s gem: “Rav Ḥisda said: Although the Sages said that one may not place a vessel beneath a hen preparing to lay an egg on Shabbat on an inclined surface, in order to receive its egg and prevent it from breaking when it falls; however, they permitted overturning a vessel onto an egg on Shabbat so that it will not be trampled and break.“

So, you can’t pick up the egg and put it in the fridge, but you can put a bowl over it to prevent it from breaking.

I liked this because there seems to be a parallel between how we can break any prohibition on Shabbat (except 3) in order to save a life, and what we can do with items. We are not supposed to use them or move them, especially if they are mukzeh (items that you are prohibited to use on Shabbat, like car keys or computers in today’s world), but we can still do things to prevent damage to these items.

So, keep Shabbat. Also, take care of your stuff.

Today’s gem, feels strange to call a gem. “Rabbi Zeira said: I saw that Rabbi Abbahu, while he was bathing, placed his hands over his genitals for the sake of modesty, and I do not know whether he touched them or did not touch them. . . Didn’t Rabbi Abba say that Rav Huna said that Rav said: Anyone who places his hands over his genitals is as if he denies the covenant of our father Abraham?“

Rabbi Zeira seems to be worried that Rabbi Abbahu might have accidentally touched his genitals (don’t worry, this issue comes up again and again and it will eventually be the subject of a post). A few lines later, we see that even covering his genitals for modesty was a problem. It says it’s “as if he denies the covenant of our father Abraham.” Meaning, this is not about modesty, it’s about shame. He is hiding his circumcision, not his genitals.

I think back a history lesson that about how a challenge to circumcision developed in the Hellenistic period (after about 133 B.C.E). Hellenistic and Roman societies widely practiced public nakedness. Enjoying oneself in a Greek gymnasium or Roman bath was the thing to do, and it was done in the nude! It was in these spaces that politics was discussed and business deals concluded (like today on the golf course or sauna). Athletic contests and exhibitions were also conducted in the nude. Participation in athletics was often a prerequisite for social advancement. Yet a circumcised penis effectively precluded this participation because they considered the tip of the penis vulgarly humorous or indecent. This combination of attitudes could be—and often was—devastating for circumcised Jews.

Consequently, for hundreds of years some Jews underwent a surgical procedure known as epispasm—an operation that “corrected” a circumcised penis. (Some might call it circumcision in reverse.)

So, was he trying to hide his circumcision? I don’t know, but I know that the rabbis commenting on it later are living in a time where Jewish men are trying actively to reverse their circumcision. And no one who loves their faith wants members of it to be ashamed of who they are and the people they are a part of.

Today’s gem comes in a bathhouse. In a bathhouse? Why are we learning there? you may ask. Well, so does the gemara: How did Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi do this? How did he teach his student halakha in the bathhouse? Didn’t Rabba bar bar Ḥana say Rabbi Yoḥanan said: In all places, it is permitted to contemplate Torah matters except for the bathhouse and the bathroom? … The Gemara answers: It was permitted because he was preventing an individual from violating a prohibition, which is different.

We then get another example of another rabbi teaching a student by stopping them from doing a prohibited act in the bathhouse.

Besides being totally weirded out (again) by the image of a rabbi and his students being together in the bathhouse, I think this has something to teach. 1) The rule that you don’t share words of Torah in a bathroom or bathhouse (meaning, on the toilet or in the tub) seems to set up a good boundary in terms of what teachers require of their students. I am imagining that if this rule were not there, that perhaps teachers would want to expound Torah while sitting on the toilet, or while singing in the shower. These are places where we should not invite our students to join us.

But we have public places as well. Public bathrooms where a teacher and student might be in side by side stalls. Even public changing rooms or saunas. And while (please God) a teacher should never invite a student to come to these places with them. Rabbis still have the right to use these spaces. And if they do, then while they are there, if they see some kind of behavior that should be corrected, then they not just are permitted, but are called upon to speak up.

Super weird. Uncomfortable page. But still, this is Torah.

Today’s gem: Compromise.

“As Rav Tanḥum said Rabbi Yoḥanan said Rabbi Yannai said Rav said: Every place that you find two who disagree, and one, a third one, adopts a compromise, the halakha is in accordance with the compromiser.“

After two pages of disagreements about stoves, ovens, and a new technology called a kufa – we get, not a clear cut law, but this gem which establishes a general rule. If you have two people with a lot of wisdom who can give many reasons for why they believe something should be a certain way – then if a third party can come up with a compromise that brings into account the two different positions, the law goes with the compromise.

Sometimes a compromise is two people losing. But more often than not it shows respect for both parties.

The mezuzah is the perfect example.

Rashi, taught that the mezuzah should be placed vertically, as we should be upright in our actions. Rashi’s grandson, Rabbeinu Tam, taught that it should be horizontal (sending blessings into the room). Rabbi Jacob ben Asher made the law on it – a compromise! This is why our mezuzot hang at a slant.

May we remember the importance of compromise when we go in and out of our gates.

Today’s gem comes amidst a discussion of how to heat food on Shabbat since we cannot ignite a fire on Shabbat. There are many disagreements, first between Hillel and Shammai, then we go into those disagreements between Rav and Shmuel and Rabbi Yohanan. That’s where our gem steps in: “Rav Ukva from Meishan said to Rav Ashi: You, who are close to Rav and Shmuel, act in accordance with t Rav and Shmuel; we will act in accordance with Rabbi Yoḥanan.“

Do you stand or sit during the shema? I remember the first time I was in a synagogue where they didn’t stand, I felt as though I had disrespected God. I was in shock. How could they be so disrespectful? But, guess what? The rule is just that whatever position you are in, you don’t move to say the shema. Mostly, standing or sitting had to do with the customs of the place. That seems to be what the ruling is above – you guys do it your way, and we will do it our way.

This is really hitting home as it’s currently Passover, and the rules about what we can, and cannot eat, vary widely from community to community. I remember visiting a friends synagogue my 5th year of rabbinical school and being shocked that they were serving humus. As an Ashkenazi Jew, I never would have eaten chickpeas as they were part of a 13th century ruling that we don’t eat corn, legumes, or rice. I grew up not eating anything with corn syrup or soy in it (that’s hard!). But, as I studied Judaism and learned about other cultures, I learned that Sephardi Jews eat rice and beans during Passover. I learned that there was no reason corn was prohibited besides a misunderstanding by early european rabbis who were unfamiliar with corn about it’s properties (and I grew up n Indiana where I was very familiar with its properties) and that other prohibitions had to do with crop rotations.

Today, the conservative movement has ruled that beans, rice, and corn are now permitted, not just on Passover, but at the Seder. This jives with my experience living in Jerusalem. When I lived there, shopping for Passover was easy – they literally put sheets over the areas that sold food that was prohibited on Passover. So, the only thing you could reach fit the guides, including kitniyot, corn, and rice products. I wondered: why are they more lax about Passover in the Jewish homeland than I am?

We keep traditions largely based on how we grew up, in keeping with our traditions – and, usually, halakic argument has little to do with it. We follow, as our gem says, the rule of those we are close to.

But maybe for Passover this Ashkenazi Jew will read and study and go with Spharad.

When my sister first told me she was moving to Chennai, I had no idea where she was talking about. But when she said,”It used to be called Madras” then some of my world history came back to me.

When I first started at Temple Beth Am, they had just completed a huge building campaign. I was new, so I had trouble finding where I needed to go. Often I would ask: Where is the theater? and would hear: Where the sanctuary used to be. I, of course,had no idea where the sanctuary once was – but this happened for my first two years. I soon learned, not only where things where, but what those spaces used to be.

I was thinking about that when reading today’s daf – the way places change names. Items change names. And terms change their meaning as well.

Today’s daf begins with a discussion about the permissibility of moving items that are  may not be touched or used on Shabbat (mukzeh). Then it gives exceptions to the rule. One is the shofar. “A shofar belonging to the community is also suitable to feed water to a poor infant whose sustenance is provided by the community.” Because the shofar can be used as a funnel to feed or give water to a child, it’s an acception.

Next comes a confusing conversaiton about if it is halakhically permissable to move a trumpet or not. The confusion apparently comes becasue of a name change: Rav Hisda explains, their names changed since the Temple was destroyed. That which was called trumpet was called shofar in later generations, and that which was called shofar was called trumpet in later generations. The earlier teaching that was cited employed the style that switches trumpet and shofar, and they were mentioned in that order. 

Other things are added to this list whose names have flipped and changed over time.

So, when I asked where the library was and was told to head toward the old basketball court, there was a bit of Talmud going on. (It also reminds me of a great song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xo0X77OBJUg)

On a more serious note. I think about how this applies to gender identity and what we choose to be called; the names we give ourselves or take on later in life.

Today’s gem comes with a beautiful Passover connection. Many of us not only put a kiddish cup of wine out for Elijah, but a glass with water in it for Miriam the Prophetess (Moses’ sister). It comes from this daf! “Rabbi Ḥiyya said: One who wants to see Miriam’s well, which accompanied the Jewish people throughout their sojourn in the desert, should do the following: He should climb to the top of Mount Carmel and look out, and see a rock that looks like a sieve in the sea, and that is Miriam’s well. Rav said: A spring that is portable, ritually pure: It is Miriam’s well.“

Where did this come from?

We read about the death of Moses’ sister, Miriam in Numbers 20:1. Immediately, it’s followed with a note that our ancestors had run out of water to drink (Numbers 20:2). The approximation of these two events provided the foundation upon which the sages of the Talmud built this beautiful legend about the abundant well of fresh water that followed Miriam as she wandered with her people throughout the wilderness. So long as she lived, the well was a fountain of living water that sustained the people. This source of strength and sustenance, however, dried up upon her death.

This legend emphasizes the importance of Miriam in the forty years our people spent in the desert and shows her to be a full partner with her brothers, Moses and Aaron. Her courage and enthusiasm sustained our people. (She even brought the timbrels! Ready to sing and dance!) Her death was a great loss for our ancestors and her two brothers. The Torah underscores this point by telling us that almost immediately after her death, Moses and Aaron are almost overwhelmed by the challenge to provide water for our people. 

Today, at many Seders there is a new ritual of placing a cup of water on the table to represent Miriam’s well. Its presence on the table provides an opportunity to talk about the significance of Miriam and the role women play in the Passover story and in the life of the Jewish people.

Today’s gem is part two of the lazerbeam saga. There is a scene where the people are saying, they don’t know enough about the place where this plaza is to know if there might have once been bodies buried there. If an area was used as a grave, then people from the priestly class, kohenim, cannot walk there. Since they didn’t know, they didn’t know if the priests should walk there or not, and it was a pain in the tuchas! So Shimon Ben Yohai asks around. No one seems to have an answer, but he knows from what they tell him, that the place was once pure. So, he walks around poking the ground. When it’s firm, he says it’s pure and priests can walk there. When it’s not firm, he marks the spot so priests will avoid it. It seems Shimon Ben Yohai has saved the day and made life easier for everyone when:

“A certain Elder said in ridicule and surprise: Ben Yoḥai purified the cemetery! Rabbi Shimon got angry and said to him: Had you not been with us, and even had you been with us and were not counted with us in rendering this ruling, what you say is fine. (Meaning, had you not been there and known what I was doing, then you coming later and laughing would have been acceptable, or even if you were with me and didn’t know what I was doing! But you knew!) Now that you were with us and were counted with us they (others) will say: Competing prostitutes still apply makeup to each other to help one another look beautiful, all the more so that Torah scholars should cooperate with each other and try and make each other look good. He directed his eyes toward him and the Elder died. Rabbi Shimon went out to the marketplace and he saw Yehuda, son of converts,who was the cause of this entire incident. Rabbi Shimon, said: This one still has a place in the world? He directed his eyes toward him and turned him into a pile of bones.“

Wow! Don’t mess with Rabbi Shimon. So we get day two of his lazerbeam eyed adventures.

The reason this is my gem, besides the X-men Cyclops parallel, is Rabbi Shimon’s reasoning behind what he does. He basically says: even prostitutes who compete with one another for business, still do one anothers makeup and help the other to look good. Why can’t rabbis be like that? Why can’t we all try and make one another look good? Instead, we stand by passively and try and make eachother look like fools? Rabbis are supposed to be the height of morality. Prostitution is . . . not. Yet, they’re better to each other than we are! ZZZZZeeeer-boooom (that’s what lazer’s sound like)!

Why do we cut one another down? Rabbis do it to one another. Women do it to one another. So many do it to so many others. When will we learn, when we help others to look good, we will look better too?