Zevachim 40

There is a leak in our sanctuary.

Our sanctuary is gorgeous. The eastern wall is made of Jerusalem stone and is reminiscent of the Kotel (The wailing wall in Jerusalem). It is convex which is horrible for sound but aesthetically stunning. There is booth natural and artificial light, and so it’s always glowing. It’s beautiful. And, it’s leaking. There are streams of rain running down the walls, and then, sometimes we will even put trash cans behind the pulpit chairs to catch the water. So, of course, this was the gem that stuck out to me:

Rabbi Shimon requires the phrase “in the Tent of Meeting” to teach that if the roof of the Sanctuary was breached by a hole, the priest would not sprinkle the blood, as it would no longer be called the Tent of Meeting. The Gemara asks: And the other tanna, Rabbi Yehuda, from where does he derive this halakha? The Gemara explains that Rabbi Yehuda derives it from the superfluous term “which is in the Tent of Meeting” (Leviticus 4:7, 18).

Yes, the Priest could not offer a sacrifice if the sanctuary had a leaky roof. While this is, of course, only referring to the sanctuary in The Temple, not my temple, I still think there is something profound about the message. I can imagine someone bringing an animal for sacrifice – that’s a significant amount of money – and seeing the roof leaking. It begs question about priorities. Would not the money be better spent patching the roof?

While appearances should not matter, and God is present everywhere, there are places that we feel closer to God. We call the sanctuary God’s house. What does it say when we do not take care of God’s house? What does it say when we do not make that space beautiful? We should want to give God our best and that means having spaces for God be built beautifully and with quality. So, we need to patch those leaks, until we do, I will dump the water out before services begin.

Zevachim 39

Being that we no longer offer physical sacrifices (such as animals and spices), it’s no wonder that we know so little of the rituals. Today’s gem is to notice that there are not one, but two altars for sacrifice!

The first is the Golden Alter (Mizbeach Hazahav), which is also known as the Altar of Incense, was located within the Temple shrine and is used for burning incense. As we read in Exodus 30:7-11:

“On it Aaron shall burn aromatic incense: he shall burn it every morning when he tends the lamps, and Aaron shall burn it at twilight when he lights the lamps—a regular incense offering before יהוה throughout the ages. You shall not offer alien incense on it, or a burnt offering or a meal offering; neither shall you pour a libation on it. Once a year Aaron shall perform purification upon its horns with blood of the sin offering of purification; purification shall be performed upon it once a year throughout the ages. It is most holy to יהוה.”

We see that this altar is used only for incense, however, once a year on Yom Kippur the blood of the sin offering is poured onto the altar to purify it.

The second altar is the “outer altar” or the large Altar of Burnt Offering, which was used for animal sacrifices and other offerings in the main courtyard.

On our daf today we learn that we need to be able to use both and both hold different rules. Here is just one line: In what case is this statement said? In a case of the blood of sin offerings brought on the inner altar. But in the case of the blood of sin offerings brought on the external altar, one who offers up such an offering outside the Temple is exempt.

I can’t help but notice how the outer offerings are very public. These are in a more public area of the Temple, closer to the people, and larger sacrifices that may feed many in the community. The inner offerings are closer to God, they are mere incense, and bring us away from the crowds closer to the Holy of Holies.

And I think of what we need – when we’ve messed up and need forgiveness, when we are grateful, when the holidays have arrived – we need both community and connection. We need to be seen by God and by others, we need to be with anyone and the with the One. How beautiful to have both. May we all be blessed with inner and outer altars in our lives.

Zevachim 38

There is so much beautiful symbolism in the holiday of Sukkot. One of my favorites is derived from a teaching on the top of today’s daf.

Yesterday, when determining how many corners (horns) the priest needed to sprinkle the blood of sacrifice upon, there was an argument made that if a word was written in the plural it must symbolize at least two. It gets us to a funny place where one could read that a sukkah needs 6 sides . . .

The Gemara raises another objection to this method of exposition: If that is so, consider the case of a sukka, about which it is stated: “In sukkot [basukkot] shall you reside seven days; all that are homeborn in Israel shall reside in sukkot [basukkot]. So that your future generations will know that I caused the children of Israel to reside in sukkot [basukkot] when I took them out of the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God” (Leviticus 23:42–43). Two instances of the word basukkot are written in a deficient manner, i.e., without a vav, indicating the singular, and one instance is written in plene form, i.e., with a vav, indicating the plural form. The Sages derived from here that a sukka must have four walls. Why not say that the vocalized text, read in the plural, is effective, requiring six walls, and likewise, the consonantal text, read in the singular, is effective, requiring four walls, and therefore one should be required to build a sukka with five walls?

On today’s daf the number of walls necessary is reduced to what we require today:

The Gemara answers: There, one of the five indicated by the verse is needed entirely for the mitzva itself, i.e., to teach the basic halakha that one must dwell in a sukka. And another one of the five is needed to teach that a sukka, as is indicated by its name, must have a covering [sekhakha]. Accordingly, there are three left, alluding to the requirement that a sukka must have three walls. The Gemara adds that the halakha transmitted to Moses from Sinai comes and reduces the size of the third wall, teaching that it need not be complete, and sets its minimum length at only one handbreadth.

So, the walls required for a sukkah to be kosher are two walls plus a handsbreadth. Now, the reason this is my favorite piece of symbolism on the holiday.

Take a look at any of your arms, says Rabbi Isaac Luria, and you will notice its division into three distinct sections. The first is from the shoulder to the elbow; the second is from the elbow to the wrist; and the handsbreadth is represented by our hand. When we sit in the sukkah, it is as if we are being hugged by God.

On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur we are judged, we repent, we vow to do better. Then, God takes us into God’s embrace, and we dwell for an entire week in the sukkah, God’s hug.

Zevachim 37

I remember being a child and reading from the Gate of Repentance, the red prayerbook we used on the High Holidays, and asking my mother what xenophobia meant. It was on our alphabetical list of sins. Years later, when it was on my GRE exam, I still remembered (it’s fear of foreigners).

Today’s daf introduced me to a new English word: plene. According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, plene is an adjective that means “having the full orthographic or grammatical form given in Masoretic texts as corrections of the defective forms that appeared in ancient biblical texts.”

In reading Hebrew words from sacred texts, sometimes we pronounce a word differently than they are written. We call this “kativ o kri” written and/or pronounced.

In the context of the daf, they are debating how many corners (or horns) of the alter must have blood placed on them for the sacrifice to be affective. When we read “corner” looks like it’s singular but we pronounce it plural. So, depending on what we count, we need to put blood on a different total of corners.

And if you wish, say instead that this is the reason of Beit Hillel: The vocalized text of the Torah, i.e., the way in which the words of the Torah are pronounced based on the tradition of what vowels the words contain, is effective in determining how the verses are to be expounded. And likewise, the consonantal text of the Torah, i.e., the way in which the words are actually written, is also effective in determining how the verses are to be expounded. The Gemara elaborates: The vocalized text is effective in adding one more corner and the consonantal text is effective in subtracting one corner.

So, my gem is two-fold. One, I learned a new word today: plene. Two: the beauty of not having vowels and punctuation in the Torah means that we can derive multiple meanings from the same verse. The Torah contains layers and layers of meaning, and I love that.

Zevachim 36

We have a tendency to take sides. If two friends divorce, most often, we stay close with only one member of the couple. We choose sides when watching sports, even when “our team” isn’t playing. And, yes, in war, we take sides saying one side is just and the other isn’t. And that can be very true. At the same time, there may be danger in only feeling the pain of “our side” and only believing the stories of “our side.”

On our daf today we are told: אֵין דָּם מְבַטֵּל דָּם “blood does not nullify blood.”

Rabbi Yehuda conforms to his line of reasoning, as he says: Blood does not nullify blood.

Just because our losses are real, does not mean that the losses of the other are not. Our pain does not negate the pain of others.

There is so much what-about-ism happening. If I share a moment of experiencing antisemitism and try to share it, I may be met with “but what about” – fill in the blank there: the Gazans, African Americans, Christian men (literally anything). Blood does not nullify blood. Our experiences are real. You don’t have to be wrong for me to be right.

Zevachim 35

Today’s gem is the disgusting image of what the Temple courtyard must have looked like on Passover when everyone brought a lamb to be sacrificed. They had been discussing the blood that takes the life of the animal verses any blood that drains after. Just FYI. These bloods are not mixed and only the blood of life is offered on the alter.

The Gemara cites the continuation of the baraita: Rabbi Yehuda said to the Rabbis: According to your statement that the mixed blood on the floor may not be used, why do they plug the drain of the Temple courtyard on Passover eve and not allow the blood to flow out through it? The Rabbis said to him: It is a source of praise for the sons of Aaron that they should walk in blood up to their ankles, thereby demonstrating their love for the Temple service. 

Nasty. Blood up to their ankles!! That’s a lot of lambs.

Why is this my gem? Besides it being nasty to picture? (By the way, they create planks for the priests to walk on so they don’t get their outfits bloods.) It’s my gem because this happened once a year. Passover. Today, we eat so much meat and get grossed out by scenes like this. But imagine if all the blood of one McDonalds drained on the floor of the room. That sea of blood would be much higher than the ankles. If that grosses you out, maybe think of eating less meat. Then when you do it will be much more of a holy occasion.

Zevachim 34

Doing extra seems to always be a good idea. But maybe there are times when it’s not? On today’s daf, there is a question of bringing “extra” sacrifices. First they question bringing an “kosher” animal. Once they determine that can’t be the situation, the question is if one can bring an undomesticated kosher animal. It seem Riesh Lakish is okay with it. He basically says it’s okay to do things in addition to what God wants. But, the rabbis disagree.

I have told you to bring offerings from the cattle and the flock, but not an undomesticated animal. To what is this comparable? To a student whose teacher told him: Bring me only wheat, and the student brought him wheat and barley. It is not as though the student is adding to the statement of the teacher; rather, it is as though he is disobeying his statement, since his teacher instructed him to bring only wheat. Consequently, one who sacrifices an undomesticated animal does not merely add to a mitzva of the Torah, but also violates a prohibition and the offering is therefore disqualified. The Gemara concludes: The refutation of the opinion of Reish Lakish is indeed a conclusive refutation.

So, maybe ask if it’s okay before you do the “extra.” Maybe the teacher doesn’t want to grade extra work, maybe the person you’re bringing a treat doesn’t want it. It reminds me of when I worked at Starbucks and tried to “hook up” friends who wanted hot chocolate or a mocha by putting in an extra squirt of the chocolate syrup. After doing this a few times I tried it and realized it was nasty with the extra (haha). All to say, sometimes extra is not a good thing. Sometimes we should just listen to what people say they want.

Zevachim 33

We learned about the Gate of Nicanor earlier in our daf studies. The Nicanor Gate was one of the main gates of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, located on the eastern side. It was named after Nicanor of Alexandria, a wealthy Jew who donated the two massive, ornate gates made of Corinthian bronze. According to tradition, the gate was miraculous, having survived a shipwreck during its transport from Alexandria to Jerusalem.

Yesterday, Ulla cited Reish Lakish who rules that the entrance to a place has he legal status of the place to which it leads, in this way, if we put our hands in the entrance, it’s as if we have fully entered. But there is one excpetion! “This is so except for this case of a leper who places hands on his guilt offering, which was done in the threshold of the Nicanor Gate.” This gate is an exception to the rule. It’s specifically denied the status of the Temple courtyard in order to allow people who were ritually defiled to approach the Temple and perform whatever rituals were necessary. As Adin Steinsaltz explains, “In the case of a metzora (leper), for example, part of the ritual that would lead to his being readmitted to society was bringing a number of sacrifices, and also having blood from the sacrifice, as well as oil, placed on his right ear, thumb and big toe (see Vayikra 14:10-32). All of these had to be performed in the Temple courtyard, and only by having the metzora stand in sha’ar Nicanor could this be accomplished.”

My gem is that perfection is impossible. Here we see that it’s impossible to follow all of the laws as outlined in the Torah and elaborated upon by our rabbis. A person who is impure is not allowed in the Temple, but a person must enter the Temple to be purified. Impossible. And so we create the smallest of violations of the law. Only his hands (toe, ear, etc.) can enter at a time – wait! a part represents the whole – okay, then only at the threshold – wait! the threshold represents the whole – okay, then only at this one special threshold can you insert your hands . . .

Perfection is impossible. Following all of God’s laws is impossible, but, we can still try and do our best, even when we know we are falling very short of the goal.

Zevachim 32

Today’s daf is brought to you by “The Hokey Pokey” where you put your right hand in, put your right hand out, and shake it all about!

We learned in the Mishnah, that non-priests can ritually slaughter sacrificial animals. The issue is: How can an impure person (who was included in the list of who can slaughter) slaughter the sacrifice if they are not allowed into the Temple?

The Gemara answers that it is possible, in a case where he inserts his hands into the Temple courtyard and places them on the head of the offering while he remains outside. The Gemara asks: But with regard to slaughter also, it is possible, in a case where he fashions a long knife and slaughters the animal while standing outside the Temple courtyard.

A bit of a hokey pokey if you will.

But not everyone agrees. Ulla says that Reish Lakish says: A ritually impure individual who inserted his hand inside the Temple courtyard is flogged for transgressing the prohibition of entering the Temple. . .

Rav Hoshaya raised an objection to Ulla . . .And if you say that partial entry into the courtyard is considered entry, how does the leper who immersed himself that day insert his hands into the courtyard so that his right thumb and big toe will become purified?

Again, the hokey pokey seems to make the most sense. He puts his right toe in and takes his right toe out and puts his right ear in . . .

Seem ridiculous? Certainly. Perhaps this is why, while biblically possible for someone who is impure to be able to ritually slaughter an animal, rabbinic authorities forbade it as a precaution.

Rabbi Shmuel Herzfeld had a nice reading of the daf today. He said, perhaps this partial entry counting as fill entry (according to Reish Lakish) can teach us all that, even if we can’t fully immerse ourself in a spiritual encounter, we should do what we can, even if it’s only our hands, or an ear, that makes it into the holy space it’s as if we are there completely.

Zevachim 31

And then a hero comes along . . . and the hero is a woman.

Okay, today’s daf was boring me out of my mind. The entire daf discussed a hypothetical question of what’s the ruling if a person has a series of three intentions, the first: to eat half an olive bulk of sacrificial meat after the designated time for doing so, the second: to eat a second half bulk of meat outside of the Temple, and the third is the same as the first intention. So, do 1 and 3 combine? What about the others? What if we burn one?

You can see why I was bored. (Just don’t take a doggie bag when offering sacrifices, then we don’t have to live in the hypotheticals.)

And then, at the bottom of the daf, a hero saved me from boredom:

MISHNA: With regard to all those who are unfit for Temple service who slaughtered an offering, their slaughter is valid, as the slaughter of an offering is valid ab initio when performed even by non-priests, by women, by Canaanite slaves, and by ritually impure individuals. And this is the halakha even with regard to offerings of the most sacred order, provided that the ritually impure will not touch the flesh of the slaughtered animal, thereby rendering it impure.

That’s right!!! A woman can offer a valid sacrifice! Take that non-feminist world. Even the Tosafot around the daf say that this “Mishna is clear proof that women can act as ritual slaughterers.”

Yes! Another reason I say God is a feminist.

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