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

Todays gem, a perfect one for election day (today was the Florida Primary): “The kingdom must have so many things in mind, they could not be written down even if all the seas were ink, and all the swamps quills, and Heavens were parchments, and all people were scribes.”

There are so many things I love about this text. One is the simple beauty and poetry of it, “if all the seas were ink . . .” I also love the truth of it – that the leaders in government have to think about so many things.

Right now, so much is changing every day as we go through this crisis. It’s hard to think about the right way for my family to adjust, daunting to think about how to create community for the synagogue when we are in quarantine; but all of this is small potatoes in comparison to what the government is trying to deal with.

I am highly politically active. I believe that all people who take the bible seriously need to be, because God demands justice and our society (or any currently society) is not yet just. We are to speak truth to power, to be a light unto the nations. I say this because I am quick to critique our government (both the US and Israel, and no matter who is in charge), but I wouldn’t want their jobs. I can’t even imagine how hard their jobs are. How much they have to think about. How many factors they have to weigh. “They could not be written down even if all the seas were ink, and all the swamps quills, and Heavens were parchments, and all people were scribes.”

Today Floridians voted in the Primaries. We don’t yet know who our leaders will be come November. But we need those who hold office to act as leaders now.

Right now our government needs to do all it can to save as many lives as possible. To save as many jobs as possible. May God bless them and guide them, for the task is too great, and too important. Each life holds a spark of the Divine. God let them treat each life as precious and help us to get through this crisis alive, healthy, and grateful.

Today’s gem – What do we wear to pray? Do we come from a place of fear or fanfair?

“Rava bar Rav Huna would wear expensive socks and pray and he said he would do this as it is written: “Prepare to greet your God, Israel.” Rava had a different practice, he would remove his cloak and clasp his hands and pray. He said that he would do so because he was as a slave before his master. Rav Ashi said: I saw that Rav Kahana, when there is suffering in the world, would remove his cloak and clasp his hands and pray. And he said that he did so as a slave before his master. When there is peace in the world, he would dress, and cover himself, and wrap himself in a significant garment, and pray, and he said that he did so in fulfillment of the verse: “Prepare to greet your God, Israel.”

Here we have two approaches to prayer (and by extension approaches to God): That we are merely slaves to our Master and therefore should appear humble before God. The removal of the cloak and clasping of hands would make him look indistinguishable from anyone else. Rava is essentially teaching: slaves are humble and fearful before their master – all the more so we should be humble before the Master of Creation! Our clothes should not make us stick out or distract from our prayers. (Indeed, as the gemara mentions, a little fancy cloth didn’t go well for Joseph . . .)

The second approach is that, when approaching God, we should appear in our finest. It teaches – you dress up to meet a king! All the more so you dress up to meet the King of Kings! We should try and look our best when we come and pray.

Rav Kahana seems to say, sometimes one is appropriate, and sometimes the other. When things are not going well in the world, and people are struggling, that’s not the time to put on finery at shul – that’s a time to appear humble. But when all is well int he world – celebrate.

I think it’s an interesting opening to an important and often visited conversation about what is appropriate dress for shul. (And I am sure we will get to these laws later in this 7.5 year endeavor, but here’s a few pieces of wisdom.) The real appropriate dress is a combination of the two. We have to look nice, trim, as though we have tried. However, it’s inappropriate to dress to the 9s. No tux. No PJs. Our dress should be modest and respectful.

I like to, personally, compare this to meeting my husband’s grandmother for the first time. When we met, she was already in her 90s. (She lived to almost 103!) She came from an era where you dressed to meet an important person. I had learned from my grandfather, who was born within a few years of her, that he thought people who wore jeans to meet someone was being disrespectful. So, I wore a modest dress. And even though I was Jewish and she was not, and even though I was warned that she didn’t like any of my husband’s previous girlfriends, she liked me.

As a rabbi I know that the last thing I want people commenting on after services, is what I was wearing. So, I strive for that medium place. Somewhere between Huna and Rava.

On the B side we get a new mishnah: “A person may not sit before the barber adjacent to the time of minḥa until he recites the afternoon prayer. And a person may not enter the bathhouse and may not to a tannery [burseki]. And he may neither begin to eat a meal nor to sit in judgment.”

What do all of these things have in common? Once you start you don’t stop. I cut my boys’ hair, and there are times when they want to stop. A friend will knock on the door and suddenly they want to run out of the house with half their head trimmed and the other half shaggy.

But the real question is – why would you start something right before prayer time?

One reason might be because you are trying to squeeze one more thing into your day. And so you are hoping that this little spot of “me time” won’t really last that long because you have things to do. If that’s the case, we can learn a lesson about savoring our “me time” and our prayer time and not trying to cut either of them short.

Another reason might be because we are being somewhat disrespectful of when prayers time starts. Maybe prayer hasn’t been working for us lately. Maybe we find it boring and don’t mind rolling in a few minutes late. (If you’re a regular service goer, you will know that this is a common practice.) Maybe we do it, but with a bit of reluctance.

I think sometimes we do this in relationships too. We squeeze it in and don’t really make time to connect. We call that person back knowing we only have 5 minutes so that we are fulfilling our responsibility but making sure we have an out.

As a working mom, I have to make a conscious effort to talk to my husband at the end of the day. It’s hard! I’ve worked like crazy, have been driving my kids around, trying to get everything done and them into bed. And then it’s about 9:00 (if I’m not still at work) and finally we have some alone time and what do I want to do? “Me time.” I want to watch the Bachelor or some other TV version of beach reading – but guess what? This is also the only time I have to be just with my husband. He is more important, but if I put my own TV first, I might miss out on time with him.

So, yeah. If you care about Mincha, and building your relationship with God, maybe don’t sit down in the barber chair right before it’s time to pray.

And if you have other relationships in your life that matter to you – make time for them. Fully present time. But don’t totally neglect the me time either. 😉

“One who intended to establish his Shabbat abode in the public domain at a specific site must place food sufficient for two meals for that site to be considered his legal residence. And if he placed the food used for his eiruv in a pit above ten handbreadths, i.e., less than ten handbreadths below ground level, his eiruv is an eiruv. If he placed the eiruv below ten handbreadths from ground level, his eiruv is not an eiruv.“

I read this daf at the beginning of the day and was not sure what it was talking about. Then, because we are not having live services at temple because we want to be responsible in protecting our congregants from coronavirus, my family and I decided to spend Shabbat at the beach.

We went to the beach, established our space, dug a hole for our umbrella (way less than 10 handbreadths) and brought our food – enough for two meals. And as I sat under the umbrella, I realized – oh! We are living out today’s daf!

In listing the exceptions to the normal laws of carrying, we get this little gem – that if you want to celebrate Shabbat in what would normally be a public place, you can make it your own, and we can count it as your abode for the day. So, enjoy the parks, enjoy picnics, enjoy the beach – make your Shabbat beautiful.

A Gem for today: So far, in Shabbat, we have been discussing private and public domains. Which already is interesting for us to think about – how it’s hard to keep Shabbat when the public domain violates our private domain (like work emails, for example) or when the private domain violates the public (like social media lets say). A public domain is understood by the rabbis as a place that is open to the public AND is frequented by the public. So, these leaves a few spaces as in between spaces. A plaza or a market square is clearly a public domain. However, a sea, a river, a swamp and a steep valley, if infrequently used, are not considered public domains, but karmelits — something not quite public and not quite private (although probably closer to the public definition).

As a nature lover I think that we can lose the beauty of this categorization by getting caught up in trying to understand the minutiae of the page. But I know that feeling. The feeling of being in nature – and it’s totally a public place, but you seem to be alone. Alone with just the waves, the fish; alone with just the view. For me, this space is highly spiritual. I remember finding it in a cornfield that used to grow behind my house in Indiana. The field was between my house, neighbors homes, and an elementary school. I would sometimes walk out into it. After a few yards, I could no longer see my house, or the school. I was in a public place – but I was completely alone – my own private little oasis.

Mikvah in the ocean is like this as well. It’s a public space, but for that moment, that ritual, it transforms into a space that is utterly personal, holey, transcendent.

I found it on top of a sand dune with my (then) new husband on our honeymoon. Open space, looking down at a hostel/hotel – and yet the only people in the world for that moment.

A bit of magic. What are some of your karmelits in nature?

Today’s daf has an interesting gem towards the end. Rav finds a hidden scroll in the house of Rav Hiyya. In this scroll, we learn that of the 39 prohibited acts on Shabbat (melachot), that there is one that if you break it, you are not liable for stoning. But it remains a mystery which of the 39 forbidden acts is the one for which you will not be punished.

There is something to this – that it’s possible that if you mess up, you will be forgiven, but you don’t know for sure. And so, the safe bet is to follow the rules. Don’t bet on somehow being the exception to the rule.

Also, I love that he found this scroll and it gave an entirely new rule. It shows that, no matter how much you know, there may be mysteries to discover at any time. And that, perhaps, no matter how much you know, there will always be something that you’ve never seen, or considered before.

I have to say, this book has been tougher than berakhot so far. The questions of private verses personal domains stretched into, what I imagine to be, sports today as the page was full of discussions of if it counts as carrying (a forbidden act) if we throw and catch items instead of lifting and placing them – what about if we throw into a basket? What about if the person catching has to run to catch? And then there is a question about if your reading a scroll and part of it rolls away from you from your private domain into the public domain.

So, my gem would be, instead of getting lost in all these picayune details, a pulling back on the picture here. What do we see? People wanting to create a shabbat experience and wondering how to connect with each other, share with each other, play with each other, and spend time with good books on Shabbat. That part I can relate to. And that’s really what Shabbat is all about: sharing food, playing, interacting, and having time for one another and good reading.

The discussion of how many handbreadths define a domain is not immediately relatable- but books, play, food and connection – I am all about it.

Today’s gem: There is a question raised about bread baking on Shabbat. The question is, if someone puts bread in the oven on Shabbat, can you take it out?

You need to understand a few things about the rules of Shabbat to even understand the question. First, you need to know that you cannot bake bread on Shabbat and that this prohibition is considered a law that derives from the Torah. Second, you need to know that it would be a prohibited act to remove the dough from the oven – but that the removal is a law derived from the rabbis.

So, the question is: Can you break a rabbinic law in order to prevent your friend from having broken a Torah law?

“Rav Sheshet strongly objected to this. And does one tell another person: Sin so that another will benefit?“

I don’t know that I fully agree with the rabbis in where they land on this one (which is that you don’t break a rabbinic law to prevent your friend from being punished for breaking a Torah law). But I definitely value the struggle. I think this speaks to a real truth about the struggle of wanting to protect and prevent others from making mistakes and the truth that you can’t live someone else’s life for them.

As a friend, there have been many times when I have struggled with wondering what my role is when a friend is going down the wrong path. I have wanted to do this from time to time – martyr myself to protect someone I love … but the Rav Sheshet clearly says, we shouldn’t sin so that someone else will benefit.

Judaism is very clear about rebuke, about correcting others, about how standing idly by renders us liable. Maybe this is an important line – do your part, warn them, stand in their way – but don’t go so far in trying to alter another person’s behavior that you end up sinning yourself.

Good lesson for those who want to be good friends. Good lesson for parents as well . . .

Today’s gem is found right between sides a and b where Rav asks Yehudah haNasi a question that is totally off topic. So, “Rabbi Ḥiyya said to Rav: Son of great men! Didn’t I tell you that when Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi is involved in this tractate do not ask him about another tractate, as perhaps it will not be on his mind?! Had Rabbi not been such a great man, you would have shamed him, as he would have been forced to give you an answer that is not an appropriate answer.“

As a rabbi and teacher, I have to say that this happens to me all the time. I am teaching a lesson that I worked hard to prepare when, boom, out of left field comes a question that has nothing to do with the topic at hand, a question I am not in the right frame of mind to answer. Sometimes I can answer and get back to what I was saying, but sometimes it throws me off and I give an answer that I wouldn’t have given had I had time to prepare, and sometimes I answer and then can’t remember what I was talking about.

I love questions. Our rabbis do too. There is some humor in the fact that Rabbi Hiyya corrects Rav by calling him ” Son of great men!” (especially since Rav is his nephew). There is something loving in the critique being made. I think it’s there because we DO want questions and to be challenged, but there is a way of doing it that furthers learning, and a way of doing it that totally derails learning. (And sometimes a way of doing it that makes it clear you are just trying to make the teacher look bad.) The rabbis highly value Kavod, showing respect, especially to their teachers. I like the idea of asking quetions, but making an extra effort to try not to throw off the lesson and to make sure you help your teacher to look good.

Now if only we could teach this to all our middle school students . . .

Welcome to a whole new book of the Talmud! And it begins with a lovely gem:

The first Mishnah deals with the prohibition of moving an object from a private property to the public domain or vice-versa on Shabbat (one of the forbidden activities). Sounds boring, I know, but keep reading. The page talks about a the home owner being in the house, and a poor person being at the doorway outside of the house and how they might interact.

In the first case, a poor person is pictured as taking something from outside the house, and lifting his hand and placing the item inside the house. If he does this, he has broken Shabbat. Likewise, if the home owner takes something from within the house and places it outside the house, the home owner has broken Shabbat. Then it talks about how, if one of them lifts their hands from their domain into the other, and then the other person then either places or takes something from the hand of the other person – then neither has violated Shabbat.

Okay, so here is why I think it’s a gem. 1) The Mishnah specifically uses the example of a poor person, I don’t think it’s an accident but it there to teach us a higher lesson. 2) In half the cases, the poor person is giving somthing to the home owner.

So, why a “poor” person? While the Rambam explains that the Mishnah simply uses pauper and householder as shorthand to distinguish between ‘the fellow standing inside the private domain’ versus ‘the fellow standing in the public domain’, I think it’s there for a bigger reason. In general, the Talmud has terms for so-and-so such as “ploney” and using the names of the sons of Jacob as “Joe and Jane Dough”. So, I highly doubt “pauper” is used flippantly. According to Rabbi Ovadiah Bartenura also thinks it’s purposeful. He says, lest you think that the obligation of charity might override the mitzvah of Shabbat, our Sages make it clear that Shabbat must still be the guiding principle. But does it?

When I read this, what I see is an attempt to honor Shabbat, make it holy, special, and different – while still making sure that if a person in need is standing before us we open our hands to them. When I read this I see a scene whee one wants to keep Shabbat AND keep the laws of tzedakah.

And what is the poor person giving the home owner?

I don’t know – just as I don’t know what the homeowner is giving the pauper. But I do know that a person is a person and everyone has something to give.

I remember being in 8th grade when my sister brought home these older kids to have dinner with our family (they must have been late teens and early 20s). They were squatters, having drove into town just that week. They were an oddity to me, and I had been leery of them. I pulled my sister to the side, asking her how she could bring them into our house – saying our parents were going to flip out.

We sat down to eat. My dad asked the most obvious question, “Where are you from?”

And so immediately, my parents learned that these young people were wandering from town to town, with no jobs, no home, squatting and trying to find work where they could to get them to the next town.

To my utter amazement, instead of my parents giving my sister as much as a warning look, they proceeded to talk to these kids about all the places they had been. They compared notes with their own travels. They laughed at their stories, refilled their plates, and invited them to stay in our house for the next few days.

They had given my parents the gift of reminiscing, of travel, of a bit of freedom that those with jobs, children, and mortgage don’t have.

They gave me a gift too. I learned that my prejudices are just that – prejudices. And everyone has something to give whether they are on one side of the doorway or the other.