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

Today’s gem: Shmuel raised a dilemma before Rav: What is the halakha with regard to answering amen after the blessings of schoolchildren? Rav said to him: One answers amen following everyone whom we hear recite a blessing, except for schoolchildren, as they recite blessings merely in order to learn them, not as expressions of thanksgiving. This applies specifically at a time when they are not fulfilling their obligation with the recitation of the blessing, but are simply learning. However, at a time when they are fulfilling their obligation through the recitation of a blessing, one answers amen after their blessing.

I liked this piece of text for two reasons: 1) There is a difference between saying a prayer because we are practicing/learning and saying a prayer because we are fulfilling an obligation. I think this gives some permission for kids to be kids, for students to be students, for acknowledging that we need to practice and drill and try things out before we can really do them with intention. And once we do have intention, our age should not matter – we can say amen. 2) That we should listen to the prayers of children and how they are attempting to fulfil their obligation. We have much to learn from our children. They might see things in new ways, they may have un-jaded hope, they might not be polished, but have something to say that deserves for the older generations to listen to, to say amen, to support and fight for.

Did you know Judaism was/is into mindfulness? Savoring?

“Beit Shammai hold that the arrival of the day of Shabbat or a Festival is different from the departure of the day. As with regard to the arrival of the day, the more that we can advance it, the better; with regard to the departure of the day, the more we postpone it, the better, so that Shabbat should not be like a burden to us.“

On today’s daf, Beit Hillel gives us a short lesson on the value of savoring the moment. The daf teaches that you can start Shabbat early, and end it late, but not the opposite. Shabbat is our day of rest, our time to inhale, recharge our spirits. Too often we cut this part of our lives short. Too often, we skip sleep, skip rest, skip doing things with our time that we see as self-indulgent (and yet we have time for TV . . .). Perhaps that’s why we needed to be commanded to take a day off, just one day!

You need to inhale to exhale. We need to sleep to be fully awake to our blessings. We need to rest to have the strength to be creative beings the other 6 days.

Shabbat is a deep breath (nishimah) for our souls (neshamah).

Don’t rush it. Savor the moment.

One time, Rav Nachman and his wife Yalta had the sage Ulla over for dinner. After eating, Rav Nachman honored Ulla with the recital of Grace After Meals. It’s a mitzvah to recite the grace on a cup of wine and then share it with the meal participants. This cup of wine is called kos shel berachah, cup of blessing. After finishing the blessings, Ulla sent the cup of wine down the table to Rav Nachman to drink. Rav Nachman said, “Master, please send the cup of blessing to Yalta, my wife.” Ulla responded that it wasn’t necessary, because a wife receives the blessing via her husband.

Yalta is having none fo this. Yalta became angry, went down to the wine cellar, and broke four hundred barrels of wine. Ulla realized he had screwed up, he sent another cup of wine to her saying, hey, at least this wine is from the same barrel. But Yalta does not let it slide, she says, “From itinerant peddlers comes gossip, and from rags come lice.”

SNAP! Get it Yalta. Ladies, we have been breaking bottles of wine for thousands of years. Here is this woman, living around 1700 years ago, who knows her place – meaning, she knows she is smart, wealthy, she is an arbiter of Jewish law and philosophy in her own right – she has it all and deserves respect. So, when it’s not given to her, she takes it.

She is awesome.

Too bad we are still forced to keep breaking bottles so may years later – but women will keep breaking them until we get the respect we deserve.

PS – if I could put music to this, it would be Lizzo’s “Good as Hell.”

The daf today comments upon a verse from psalms when discussing if we should ask for things when making grace after meals. The verse says, “Open your mouth wide, that I will fill it” Psalm 81:11. It is in the context of discussing how the enslaved Jewish people had cried out to God, and God listened and set them free.

The reason I love this is that I see, so often in my life, and in my work with others, that so often we don’t ask for what we want and then, we are unhappy.

I see couples who drift apart because they don’t tell their partner what they want from them. I try and teach them that it’s okay to say – I had a hard day at work today, tell me I’m smart; or, I need to be told I’m beautiful; or, I am feeling lonely, I would like to cuddle but don’t want to have sex; or, I would love to have sex, what would put you in the mood?

I see people at work who are unhappy but don’t talk to their supervisors about areas they are excited about, ideas they have, initiatives they would love to bring, things that have happened that were hurtful or counterproductive.

Just yesterday, I took my kids to a restaurant where, if you ordered a kid’s meal, you got a lollypop. They did not order kids meals, but were upset when they learned they could have had lollypops. My younger son started to get mad at me and told me that I should have told him. I said – what if you just went and asked the manager if you could have a lollypop? Neither liked this idea. I said, what do you have to lose? If they say no you’re in the same spot you are now. If they say yes, you get a lollypop. They were still scared to go, but they went together. They asked for what they wanted. They got lollypops. And, I let them eat them, because I want them to learn to do something that is so hard for so many of us to do – just say what we want.

Today’s gem: Rav Hisda catches some heat on today’s daf for not mentioning covenant, Torah or sovereignty in his Grace After Meals. What is the reason he gives? “Covenant does not apply to women; Torah and sovereignty apply neither to women nor to slaves.“

Oh Rav Hisda, do you mean to be an example of peaceful protest? of solidarity with the oppressed? Because that’s how I, and many women, read you.

He reminds me of those who wore hajab in solidarity with Muslim women who were being victims of hate and prejudice. Of the German community wearing kippot after a Jewish man was beaten on the street. He reminds me of the town of Billings in 1993, where a white nationalist had thrown a paver through the window of a 5 year old boys home when he saw the child’s drawing of a menorah in the window – following the lead of many churches response, the local paper printed a copy of the picture, hundreds of people, all non-Jews, cut out the picture and hung it in their windows as well.

Refraining because others are excluded matters.

Solidarity matters.

Gestures matter.

Showing love, support, that you are not alone.

Refraining because others are excluded matters.

Feeling and acting towards justice matters.

Thanks Hisda

Two gems. The first from close to the end of side b: “From where is the obligation to recite the blessing of the Torah derived? Several answers are offered: Rabbi Yishmael said: It is derived through an a fortiori inference from Grace after Meals: Over food, which is an aspect of temporal life, one recites a blessing, all the more so one recites a blessing over the Torah, which is eternal life.” We should bless what nourishes our soul – how nourishing!

Gem 2: There is a scene (pasted below) that describes Shimon ben Shatach standing up to the wicked king, King Yannai. Before we comment on that, let’s talk about who this Yannai character is: Yannai was the great grandson of Mattathius from the Channukah story, therefor, a direct descendant of the Maccabees! But, unlike the Maccabees who risked their lives to preserve tradition, Yannai, who was both High Priest and King, felt closer to the Sadducees and showed little regard for tradition. During the water festival celebrating the holiday of Sukkot, when the High Priest (Yannai) was handed the pitcher of water to pour over the Altar, he poured it out on the ground instead, showing how he did not accept this tradition. The assembled worshippers, seeing his actions, were infuriated, and began throwing their Etrogim (citron fruits) at him!

King Yannai, angry and frightened at the rebellion against him, ordered his non-Jewish soldiers to attack the people. This they did, killing six thousand Jews.

So, that’s who we are talking about here. This evil king was married to a respectable Queen (they were forced to marry when her first husband, Yannai’s brother, died). Her brother was the Head of the Sanherdrin, Shimon ben Shatach. King Yannai wants to invite a third party to their dinner, so that person would say the special blessings that are part of the Grace after the Meal that praise the host – himself. The Queen agrees to bring her brother, but only after making the king promise he would not hurt him. Shimon ben Shatach comes. But he does not want to eat with them. He drinks as a perfunctory gesture. And when it’s time for him to bless, the king says, “Look what an honor I am giving you!” Shimon ben Shatach replies that the Torah is what gives him honor, not the king.

Why is this a gem? Besides just being an amazing story, this brings up so many wonderful questions. When do we meet with wicked people? Who do we break bread with? How do we live our lives with integrity, especially when speaking out either feels, or is, dangerous? When the person in power is not a good person, what is our role in standing up to them, speaking out against their crimes?

By the way, the day King Yannai died, and the Queen was able to free 70 Elders from prison, was the 2nd of Shevat, and it became a minor holiday.

Here’s the Talmudic text: King Yannai and the queen ate bread together. And since Yannai executed the Sages, there was no one to recite the Grace after Meals blessing on their behalf. He said to his wife: Who will provide us with a man to recite the blessing on our behalf? She said to him: Swear to me that if I bring you such a man, you will not harass him. He swore, and she brought her brother, Shimon ben Shataḥ. She sat him between the King’s throne and hers. The King said to him: Do you see how much honor I am according you? He responded: It is not you who honors me; rather, the Torah honors me, as it is written: “Extol her and she will exalt you; she will bring you to honor when you embrace her” (Proverbs 4:8). Yannai said to his wife: You see that he does not accept authority.

They gave Shimon ben Shataḥ a cup of wine over which to recite Grace after Meals. He said: How shall I recite the blessing? Shall I say: Blessed is He from Whom Yannai and his companions have eaten? I have not eaten anything. He drank that cup of wine. They gave him another cup, and he recited the Grace after Meals blessing.

On today’s daf, a question is raised about what does a Jew need to know in order not to be considered an ignoramus? What does a Jew need to know to qualify for a zimmun? This begins with the question of letting a Kuti be part of the zimmun. What’s a Kuti? Translated as Samaritan, apparently, there was a time when Kuti people may have converted to Judaism, but because they were being persecuted, not out of love. According to the Mishna, the Kuti have a between status – not Jewish, but not not-Jewish. The Talmud does not like that designation because it makes categorising them impossible (and their status continues to be debated throughout the Talmud). It also reminds us that, according to Jewish law, you cannot be forced to convert – that conversion is neither binding nor valid. And so then, Abaye says we can include a Kuti if they are also a chaver (friend) – meaning they have really fallen in love with Judaism and keep the laws.

This opens up an entire conversation about standards. Who, then, should be excluded from a zummin? Who is an ignoramus if not a person who converted, not from a place of knowledge and love, but out of necessity? (See the conversation pasted below. The rabbis vary wildly from one who doesn’t say the shema to one who prays, studies, but doesn’t have a mentor . . .)

This brings up a few things for me. One is the questioning of another person’s conversion and if they’re “really a Jew” and how incredibly offensive that is. This still plays out today, hopefully not in my synagogue, but yes, in some. It also plays out between the branches of Judaism, where my conversions as a Reform rabbi, are looked at as suspect and sometimes not accepted by my orthodox colleagues. It plays out in the state of Israel as they define whose a Jew and question(ed) the status of Ethiopian Jews and if they’re truly Jewish, even after forcing them to undergo mass conversions to Judaism even while they always identified as Jewish.

The conversation continues with the thread of – are you Jewish enough? Today we might ask – do you keep kosher? How frequently do you pray? Do you study? Do you light candles?

And I take offense to outsiders looking in determining who is Jewish enough and who is not. The gen I woudl suggest from this is for ourselves:

What do I personally do to connect myself to my faith? Do I pray? Study? Volunteer? How does my faith influence my choices? How I live my life?

Today, if you want to be Jewish, you count! We love you and celebrate you. Now, it’s up to you – do you want to be included in a Zimmun? What do you need to do to make yourself feel included? Valued? Knowledgable?

a Kuti may be included in a zimmun. The Gemara asks: Why? Even if you consider him a member of the Jewish people, let him be merely an am ha’aretz, and it was taught and it was taught in a baraita: An am ha’aretz may not be included in a zimmun. Abaye said: The mishna is referring to a Kuti who is a ḥaver, one who is scrupulous in those areas. Rava said: Even if you say that the mishna refers to a Kuti who is an am ha’aretz, and here the prohibition to include an am ha’aretz in a zimmun refers to an am ha’aretz as defined by the Rabbis who disagree with Rabbi Meir, as it was taught in a baraita: Who is an am ha’aretz? Anyone who does not eat non-sacred food in a state of ritual purity. This is the statement of Rabbi Meir. And the Rabbis say: An am ha’aretz is anyone who does not appropriately tithe his produce. And these Kutim tithe their produce appropriately, as they are scrupulous with regard to that which is written in the Torah, as the Master said: Any mitzva that the Kutim embraced and accepted upon themselves, they are even more exacting in its observance than Jews. The Sages taught: Who is an am ha’aretz? One who does not recite Shema in the evening and morning. Rabbi Yehoshua says: An am ha’aretz is one who does not don phylacteries. Ben Azzai says: An am ha’aretz is one who does not have ritual fringes on his garment. Rabbi Natan says: An am ha’aretz is one who does not have a mezuza on his doorway. Rabbi Natan bar Yosef says: An am ha’aretz is one who has children but who does not want them to study Torah, so he does not raise them to engage in Torah study. Aḥerim say: Even if one read the Bible and studied Mishna and did not serve Torah scholars to learn from them the meaning of the Torah that he studied, that is an am ha’aretz. Rav Huna said: The halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Aḥerim.

Today’s Daf Yomi talks about dinner parties, and who should be seated where, who leads the blessings before and after the meal, to ensure a fun evening for all. This is a great conversation starter to talk seating arrangements, class structure (and other dynamics at play at the dinner table), and how to ensure good dinner party conversation.

This reminds me of Priya Parker’s The Art of Gathering. She opens the book by saying, “The way we gather matters.” She gives lots of good advice about how to make gatherings successful – including dinner parties! She teaches we should know the purpose of the meeting (at the top of this daf, it would be to celebrate Rav Zeira’s improved health). Be considerate of who you invite, more is not always merrier (here all the sages are invited). Make sure it’s the right space for the meeting. The host should be in charge of the evening (this is where it goes awry in the Talmud – no one knows who should say the brachas, and everyone ends up uncomfortable). She also says the pre-game is important, talking about hot topics is important, and saying goodbye is important. We do’t see this in our daf, but it does have us think about what we do for others and doing it with intention.

one gem: The daf begins with an observation that a rabbi said a blessing when the rabbis had already ruled that, in that case, one was not necessary. When questioned why “He said to him: Go out and observe what the people are doing.” Meaning, that sometimes we decide what the rules should be, but the people decide what the rules really are. We can sit in a bubble and theorise about how one should behave but we don’t live in a bubble, and in the real world, we tend to behave as those around us do. There is a term for this in Judaism, minhag haMakom. When in doubt, look around and see what others are doing. For example, some Reform congregations sit for the Shema, some stand. Which is right? To do what everyone else is doing – go along with the custom of the place. This also brings up the issue of if we should keep certain laws if no one is keeping them – perhaps they are outdated, or the goals of the law need to be achieved in another way.

A second gem: “This was also taught in a baraita: The translator is not permitted to raise his voice louder than the reader. The converse is also true; and if the translator cannot raise his voice to match that of the reader, the reader should lower his voice and read.” – why do I think it’s a gem? The metourgemon, here translated as translator, is the interpretor of the text. This person’s job is to, not only put the holy words into the vernacular, but also to interpret them to fit the times. I like how both the original and the interpretation need to be at the same decible level. To me, this teaches how we need to preserve the original, keep it in it’s pure state – and how each time we look at a piece of text, we need to interpret it, make it relevant, and have it speak in our language. This prevents old interpretations from making a text seem stale, and it allows us space to hear the holy speak to us in words that make sense now (especially when there are interpretations that make it sound as though the holy is not just . . .which happened on this daf, and daf 43, and I am sure will happen again, and I will talk about it . . .)

On today’s daf, we are introduced to a strange fruit called the Genosar. Apparently something very sweet from the Kineret region (Tiberius). All the rabbis are a mess over it! Rabba bar bar Hana reports that Rabbi Yohanan would eat 1,000 at a time and still not be satisfied. Rabbi Abbahu ate them until he was so sweaty flies slip off his forehead. Rav Asi apparently ate them until his hair fell out. Rabbi Shimon Lakish would eat them until he became confused. Rabbi Yohanan would “tell the household of the Nasi” and with Rabbi Yehuda Nesia, go and get the authorities to bring him back to his house.

What is this stuff!?!

While the commentaries seem to believe it to be fruit, some suggest it may have fermented and become slightly toxic. They certainly seem drugged up when reading this. Thiet solution to the intoxication – eating slaty fish.

Why is it a gem? I think it shows how substances affect people differently. And how something beautiful and perhaps even beneficial in some cases (sweet fruit in this case) can be abused. It also shows that even the greatest among us might struggle with substance abuse – and how sometimes we need friends to get us the help we need, like Rabbi Shimon Lakish and Yehuda Nesia looking out for Rabbi Yohanan.