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

Exodus 23:7 teaches, “Distance yourself from a false matter.” Our daf today uses this line to teach 13 (yes, 13!) different rules for court procedures based on this line. A few highlights:

From where is it derived with regard to a student who is sitting before his teacher and sees a claim that provides advantage for a poor person and disadvantage for a wealthy person that he shall not remain silent? It is derived as the verse states: “Distance yourself from a false matter.”

From where is it derived with regard to a student who sees his teacher who is erring in judgment that he shall not say: I will wait for my teacher until he concludes the trial and then I will contradict him and construct a ruling of my own so that the verdict will be attributed to my name? It is derived as the verse states: “Distance yourself from a false matter.”

From where is it derived with regard to a student whose teacher said to him: You know concerning me that even if one were to give me one hundred times one hundred dinars, I would not fabricate a claim. Now, I have one hundred dinars in the possession of so-and-so, to whom I lent money, but I have only one witness of the two required to testify about the loan and enable me to collect payment; from where is it derived that the student shall not join with the other witness and testify? It is derived as the verse states: “Distance yourself from a false matter” (Exodus 23:7).

It also teach not to game the system amongst other things, but I loved the three above. It’s so important to speak up, even when we are worried about contradicting someone we respect if not doing so would allow a miscarriage of justice. Integrity is precious and we should do what we can to hold onto it. Justice is a goal we are constantly pursuing, we all need to do all we can to make our world more just.

Today’s gem is a good one:

The Gemara relates: The wife of Rav Huna had a trial pending before Rav Naḥman. Rav Naḥman said: What should we do? If I will arise before her in deference to her status as the wife of a Torah scholar, the claims of the other litigant will be suppressed, as it will be mistaken as a display of preference for the wife of Rav Huna, since not everyone is aware that one is required to show deference to the wife of a Torah scholar. If I will not arise before her, that would run counter to the principle that in terms of deference, the status of the wife of a ḥaver is like that of a ḥaver, who is devoted to the meticulous observance of mitzvot. Rav Naḥman said to his attendant: Go outside and cause a duck to fly and cast it onto me, and in that way I will be forced to arise in a manner that will fulfill the obligation to rise, without intimidating the other litigant.

This is hilarious. I don’t know what to do . . . throw a duck at me.

Today’s gem is an ENTIRE STORY implied by saying “Rava’s reed” in Hebrew.

They are asking if someone says a lie (and this is the real example from the daf) such as “On oath I saw a camel fly” but “camel” is what he calls a bird – then he still gets admonished by the court because you have to use the common meaning. So, they get into another tricky situation, one Rabbi Steinsaltz explains for us below. (Remember the bold indicates it’s translation while the unbolded indicated Rabbi Steinsaltz research to explain it):

Rav Ashi replies: No, the reason the court admonishes the oath taker is not that the oath can be interpreted according to a private meaning. There, when the court administers an oath, they explain that it is according to their meaning due to deceptions like that of the reed in Rava’s court. In that incident, someone handed his creditor a hollow reed, which he had secretly filled with coins, to hold for him, and proceeded to take an oath that he had given him the money owed to him, whereupon he took back the reed, as the creditor was unaware of its contents. The court admonishes oath takers so that they do not think that they have fulfilled their obligation to take an oath if they engage in such chicanery.

Tricky tricky! It’s fun, and also pretty nasty. Don’d be like that guy with the reed in Rava’s court. And maybe don’t call a bird camel. (Although in Hebrew dog means fish . . .)

A great gem today! What vows don’t count? When can you break a promise?

The Sages dissolved four types of vows without the requirement of a request to a halakhic authority: Vows of exhortation, vows of exaggeration, unwitting vows, and vows whose fulfillment is impeded by circumstances beyond one’s control.

So, 1) you are being forced without your consent, 2) you’re just exaggerating (I swear I’ll eat you out of house and home I’m so hungry!), 3) you forget or are confused, and 4) you can’t fulfill it because of circumstances beyond your control.

In all other cases you have to keep your word, so be careful what you promise.

Have you ever been in an argument with someone about what was said or what happened and just wished life was recorded so you could prove to them that you are right and they are wrong? Apparently, that happened to our rabbis too!

We have been studying oaths (aka “shevuot”). Today, the daf asks what happens if you swear and you think you’re right . . . but your not.

It is as it was with Rav Kahana and Rav Asi, who, when they were standing up in the presence of Rav, their teacher, at the conclusion of a lesson, disagreed with regard to exactly what he (Rav) said. One Sage said: On my oath Rav said like this, and the other Sage said: On my oath Rav said like that. When they came before Rav to clarify what he had said, he stated his opinion in accordance with what one of them had said. The other said to Rav: Did I then take a false oath? Rav said to him: Your heart compelled you. It is not regarded as a false oath, since at the time that you took the oath you were certain that you were telling the truth.

There is a difference between lying and just being wrong. In one case, you know you’re wrong and you just deny deny deny; in the other, you’re wrong but you don’t know it. When you learn – you might even have some healthy embarrassment or shame.

I know that I have sworn something was one way only to have the internet prove me wrong. (We are getting awfully close to having our lives almost completely recorded.)

How many sins can you perform in one bite? Well, at least 4 . . .

Rava, son of Rabba, raises an objection from a mishna (Karetot 13b): It is possible for a person to perform one act of eating for which he is liable to bring four sin-offerings and one guilt-offering. And these are the prohibitions one can violate in this manner: A ritually impure person who ate forbidden fat that is the leftover from one of the sacrificial animals on Yom Kippur. If he did this and was unaware of the relevant prohibitions he is liable to bring four sin-offerings, as well as a guilt-offering for deriving benefit from the misuse of consecrated property.

This is a fun game, the rabbis then try to see if htey can get it up to 5 sins with one bite. It reminds me of this scene from the movie “Lair Lair.”

Today’s gem just reminded me of dates/going out… so that’s why I picked it. The rabbis are debating if one says “I will not eat” and they drank, are they liable? What if they say “I will not drink” and they ate? The comparison they use is if you invite someone over for dinner:

Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Avin says that Shmuel says: If one said: On my oath I will not eat, and then he drank, he is liable. If you wish, you may propose a logical argument for this ruling, and if you wish, you may cite a verse to explain it. The Gemara explains: If you wish, you may propose a logical argument for this ruling: It is clear that drinking is included in eating from the fact that a person will say to another: Let’s have a taste of something, and they go in and eat and drink. And if you wish, cite a verse as the source for this ruling, as Reish Lakish says: From where is it derived that drinking is included in eating? It is derived from that which is stated: “And you shall eat before the Lord your God, in the place that He shall choose to cause His name to dwell there, the tithe of your grain, of your tirosh, and of your oil” (Deuteronomy 14:23). And since the Hebrew word tirosh mentioned in the verse is wine, and it is written with regard to it: “And you shall eat,” this indicates that drinking is an activity included in eating.

Inviting someone over for dinner surely includes drinks. But inviting them over for a drink?

That’s what reminds me of dating. If you say “Let’s get a drink,” you know that, if the drink goes well, maybe you will propose getting some food next – but food is not included. But if you say “Let’s get dinner” then drinks with dinner are assumed.

The gem? First, this daf helps us read date etiquette, and second – don’t be that person who invites someone over for dinner and doesn’t supply drinks (haha).

What might we compare the Torah to? Usually, water, or the tree of life – today, a crouching lion.

The Gemara is wondering: if someone vows not to eat something, how much of that thing do they need to eat to be liable? An olive bulk? What if it’s something no one woudl eat? Like dirt? Or, like something forbidden by Torah?

Resolve the dilemma that Rava raises with regard to one who says: On my oath I will not eat dirt, asking how much he must eat in order to be liable? Resolve the dilemma by saying that he is not liable unless he eats an olive-bulk, since a carcass resembles dirt, and the reason he is liable is that he specified that the oath prohibits him from eating even a half-measure, indicating that if he did not specify, his intention is that the oath refers to an olive-bulk. The Gemara answers: No, the dilemma cannot be resolved based on this comparison. Dirt is entirely inedible. A carcass, by contrast, is edible, but a lion crouches on it, i.e., eating it is prohibited by the Torah. Therefore, one cannot derive the halakha concerning dirt from the halakha concerning a carcass.

Yuck and yuck. But, within the yuck, a gem.

The Torah is compared to a lion crouching. It fiercely protects us from acting in debasing ways. It protects us from living lives of emptiness. It’s a beauty. A scary, awe-inspiring, beauty.