Menachot 45

I am about halfway through the book, “God, Human, Animal, Machine: Technology, Metaphor, and the Search for Meaning” by Meghan O’Gieblyn. It’s a fascinating read discussing what makes us human in this time of AI. O’Gieblyn grew up religious but no longer considers herself so, however, when she read about attempting to prolong our lives by making versions of ourselves that could be uploaded and continue to think, make choices, process and debate, she though of the resurrection. She thought of the prophet Ezekiel, and that maybe his visions of the dead coming back to life were all metaphors that fit this moment in science.

On our daf, we also read of the prophet Ezekiel. We see that his words often contradict the Torah – and yet they are sacred, holy, true. Again and again, verses from Ezekiel are brought and the rabbis ask what it means and Rabbi Yehuda says: This passage is indeed difficult, but in the future Elijah the prophet will interpret it.

Finally, after hearing that no one can interpret these verses, and that we need Elijah to do so 3 times, The Gemara concludes the discussion of specific difficult verses in Ezekiel with the following general statement: Rav Yehuda says that Rav says: That man is remembered for good, and Ḥanina ben Ḥizkiyya is his name. As were it not for him, the book of Ezekiel would have been suppressed and not included in the biblical canon, because various details of its contents appear to contradict statements of the Torah. What did Ḥanina ben Ḥizkiyya do? He brought up to his upper story three hundred jugs [garbei] of oil for light so that he could study even at night, and he sat isolated in the upper story and did not move from there until he homiletically interpreted all of those verses in the book of Ezekiel that seemed to contradict verses in the Torah.

It’s not meant to be understood literally, it’s a metaphor.

What does it mean when Ezekiel says he was forced to eat a scroll? That God’s word, which tastes as sweet as honey, can only be delivered by someone who first embodies the message

What does it mean when Ezekiel cooks bread over dung? The message: exile will not just be political defeat — it will be humiliation and ritual defilement.

What about the holy chariot with the 4 headed angel – Ezekiel’s opening vision — often called the Merkavah (Divine Chariot)? The storm cloud, fire, wheels within wheels, and the radiant human-like figure on a sapphire throne all communicate one revolutionary idea: Even in exile in Babylon, God’s presence is not trapped in the Temple. The divine throne moves. Even if we are displaced, God is still with us.

And now, back to the resurrection. Is it literal? If not, what might it mean?

The bones are described as “very dry” — not recently dead, but long gone, beyond hope. But then, they rise and are filled with breath (ruach — spirit/wind), it symbolizes:

  • National restoration after exile
  • Spiritual revival
  • The rebirth of a people who thought they were finished

God explicitly interprets it: “These bones are the whole house of Israel.”

Despair is not the end of the story. There is hope – for all of us.

And maybe, maybe, AI and science can help us give life tot he dead. But, in the meantime, let’s enjoy this life like it’s the only one we have.

Menachot 44

Today’s daf has one of the most memorable stories in the Talmud. I will past the entire passage below, but to sum it up the daf tells the unforgettable story of a man who is meticulous about the mitzvah of tzitzit but who also loves to sleep with prostitutes. He saves his money and travels overseas to visit a famous prostitute, paying her an enormous fee for her services. After all that work, at the last moment when he is about to “sin” his four tzitzit strike him in the face. He drops to the floor, refusing to sleep with her. He explains to her that that tzitzit remind him that God both punishes and rewards — and that the fringes stand like witnesses to his actions.

Moved by his integrity, the woman transforms her life. She gives away her wealth, converts, and ultimately marries him. The very beds that had been prepared for sin are now used in holiness. The Gemara concludes: this was his reward in this world — and who knows how great his reward will be in the next!

Besides being fabulously entertaining, the story teaches so much.

First, both characters are redeemed. The student resists temptation and changes his ways; the woman reclaims her dignity and future. This teaches us that transformation is always possible and we are never too far gone to change.

Second, the story quietly subverts social assumptions (especially those about the rabbis). The former prostitute becomes his wife — not a consolation prize, but a blessing, a reward! The Talmud does not treat her as diminished in any way because of her past.

Third, the same physical act can be either holy or unholy. Nothing about the act itself changed — only the context. Desire redirected becomes sanctified.

But most of all, this story is about ritual as witness. The tzitzit are not decorative threads. They are reminders, guardians, and moral alarms. Ritual objects are meant to interrupt us. To nudge us. To call us to responsibility.

The daf reminds us: mitzvot are not there just to hang from our garments or sit on our shelves. They are there to bear witness and transform us — to help us live lives of Torah, goodness, justice, and holiness.

It is taught in a baraita that Rabbi Natan says: There is no mitzva, however minor, that is written in the Torah, for which there is no reward given in this world; and in the World-to-Come I do not know how much reward is given. Go and learn from the following incident concerning the mitzva of ritual fringes. There was an incident involving a certain man who was diligent about the mitzva of ritual fringes. This man heard that there was a prostitute in one of the cities overseas who took four hundred gold coins as her payment. He sent her four hundred gold coins and fixed a time to meet with her. When his time came, he came and sat at the entrance to her house. The maidservant of that prostitute entered and said to her: That man who sent you four hundred gold coins came and sat at the entrance. She said: Let him enter. He entered. She arranged seven beds for him, six of silver and one of gold. Between each and every one of them there was a ladder made of silver, and the top bed was the one that was made of gold. She went up and sat naked on the top bed, and he too went up in order to sit naked facing her. In the meantime, his four ritual fringes came and slapped him on his face. He dropped down and sat himself on the ground, and she also dropped down and sat on the ground. She said to him: I take an oath by the gappa of Rome that I will not allow you to go until you tell me what defect you saw in me. He said to her: I take an oath by the Temple service that I never saw a woman as beautiful as you. But there is one mitzva that the Lord, our God, commanded us, and its name is ritual fringes, and in the passage where it is commanded, it is written twice: “I am the Lord your God” (Numbers 15:41). The doubling of this phrase indicates: I am the one who will punish those who transgress My mitzvot, and I am the one who will reward those who fulfill them. Now, said the man, the four sets of ritual fringes appeared to me as if they were four witnesses who will testify against me. She said to him: I will not allow you to go until you tell me: What is your name, and what is the name of your city, and what is the name of your teacher, and what is the name of the study hall in which you studied Torah? He wrote the information and placed it in her hand. She arose and divided all of her property, giving one-third as a bribe to the government, one-third to the poor, and she took one-third with her in her possession, in addition to those beds of gold and silver. She came to the study hall of Rabbi Ḥiyya and said to him: My teacher, instruct your students concerning me and have them make me a convert. Rabbi Ḥiyya said to her: My daughter, perhaps you set your sights on one of the students and that is why you want to convert? She took the note the student had given her from her hand and gave it to Rabbi Ḥiyya. He said to her: Go take possession of your purchase. Those beds that she had arranged for him in a prohibited fashion, she now arranged for him in a permitted fashion. The Gemara completes its point about the reward of mitzvot and points out how this story illustrates the concept: This is the reward given to him in this world, and with regard to the World-to-Come, I do not know how much reward he will be given.

Menachot 43

We continue to learn about tzitzit (ritual fringes) on our daf today. We get two rules from tzitzit that tell us a lot about other mitzvot. The first is why men are obligated to more mitzvot then women:

The Sages taught in a baraitaEveryone is obligated in the mitzva of ritual fringes, including priests, Levites, Israelites, converts, women, and Canaanite slaves. Rabbi Shimon deems women exempt, because the mitzva of ritual fringes is a positive, time-bound mitzva, and women are exempt from every positive, time-bound mitzva.

So, women are not obligated (but it doesn’t say we CANNOT).

It is taught in another baraita: The verse states: “That you may look upon it and remember all the commandments of the Lord” (Numbers 15:39). This indicates that once a person is obligated in this mitzva of ritual fringes, he is obligated in all of the mitzvot.

Here we learn that once we are obligated in tzitzit we are obligated for ALL mitzvot. So, when young people get their first tallit at the bar/bat mitzvah it means they’re obligated for all the mitzvot (hence the name bar/son or bat/daughter of the mitzvot/commandments.

Menachot 42

Do you ever say something or ask a question and then feel really stupid after? Me too. And not just this Rabbi, but Rav Sama too.

The Gemara relates that Ravina and Rav Samma were sitting before Rav Ashi. Rav Samma saw that the corner of Ravina’s cloak was torn and therefore the hole through which the ritual fringes were inserted was less than the fulllength of a thumb joint from the edge of the garment. Rav Samma said to Ravina: Doesn’t the Master hold in accordance with that statement of Rabbi Ya’akov that the hole must be at least the length of a thumb joint from the edge of the garment? Ravina said to Rav Samma: It was stated that this distance is required at the time when the ritual fringes are made. If the corner tears later, causing the hole to be closer to the edge of the garment, the ritual fringes remain fit. 

Here it comes:

Rav Samma became embarrassed because he had asked his question based on a mistaken assumption. Rav Ashi said toRav Samma: Do not be upset that Ravina is a greater scholar than you are; one of them, i.e., the Sages of Eretz Yisrael, is like two of us, i.e., the Sages of Babylonia.

Great lessons here. We have not to assume but to ask. And we have Rav Ashi who admits that we all make mistakes and feel stupid sometimes.

Menachot 41

When we argue about who starred in a movie, or the name of the street with the Chinese restaurant, or how old someone is – we solve our problems (more often then not) by looking at the internet.

But what did our rabbis do? How did they solve problems?

On our daf today we get an expert weighing in on if you need to put tzittzit on a cloak that does not have 4 distinct corners. … it’s an angel.

The Gemara notes that this disagrees with what an angel said. As an angel found Rav Ketina when he was wearing a linen cloak, which is exempt from ritual fringes. The angel said to him: Ketina, Ketina, if you wear a linen cloak in the summer and a coat [sarbela], which has only two corners and is therefore also exempt from ritual fringes, in the winter, what will become of the ritual fringes of sky-blue wool? As a result, you will never fulfill the mitzva. Rav Ketina said to him: Do you punish us even for failing to fulfill a positive mitzva? The angel said to him: At a time when there is divine anger and judgment, we punish even for the failure to fulfill a positive mitzva! The Gemara attempts to draw conclusions from the statement of the angel: Granted, if you say that the mitzva of ritual fringes is an obligation incumbent upon the man, that is why Rav Ketina would be deemed liable at a time of divine anger, as he did not affix ritual fringes to his cloak and thereby neglected the obligation incumbent upon him. But if you say that it is an obligation to attach them to every cloak that one owns, since Rav Ketina’s cloaks were not required to have ritual fringes, he was not obligated to attach ritual fringes to them. Why should he be punished in a time of divine anger? The Gemara responds: Rather, what should one assume, that it is an obligation incumbent upon the man? Even so, granted that the Merciful One rendered him obligated when he is wearing a cloak that has four corners and is therefore subject to the obligation of ritual fringes, but when he is wearing a cloak that is not subject to the obligation of ritual fringes, did the Merciful One deem him obligated😕 Rather, this is what the angel is saying to Rav Ketina: Are you seeking ploys [tatzdeki] to exempt yourself fromperforming the mitzva of ritual fringes?

I love this. But I do have to say there are bigger issues right now then debated over ritual fringes. I wish for could send us an angel to solve our problems with war, antisemitism, immigration policy, environmental collapse … but I guess fringes will do for now.

Menachot 40

Do we trust experts? Or do we need to see things for ourselves?

On our daf today we read:

Gemara suggests: Let the Sages write letters informing dye producers that tekhelet that was used for testing the color of the dye in the vat is unfit for ritual fringes. The Gemara explains: Shall we go and rely on letters, assuming that dye producers will follow the instructions they contain? Rava responded to this and said: Now, with regard to the prohibitions against eating leavened bread on Passover and eating on Yom Kippur, which are punishable by karet, we rely on letters sent from the rabbinical court in Eretz Yisrael publicizing whether the year was declared a leap year and when they have declared the New Moon; here, with regard to the mitzva of ritual fringes, whichis merely a positive mitzva, is it not all the more so correct that letters can be relied on?

The daf reminds us that Jewish life runs on trust — trust in those with expertise and authority to guide the community. If we rely on rabbinic letters to determine the calendar for Passover and Yom Kippur, even when the stakes are excommunication, then surely we can rely on informed guidance in less severe matters. Not every decision can be personally verified; sometimes holiness depends on trusting the system and the people entrusted to steward it.

The gem? It’s not just in Jewish life. We need to listen to experts and social influencers on issues of history, science, and so much more. Thank God for experts.

Menachot 39

Dedicated to my teacher, Rabbi Lenny Kravitz z’l, a brilliant and hilarious man whose favorite sin was shaatnez.

When Mixing Becomes Holy

The Torah forbids shaatnez. What is shaatnez? It’s the mixing wool and linen in a garment. And yet on our daf today, we learn that this very mixture is permitted, even required, in certain forms of tzitzit.

Come and hear, Raḥava says that Rav Yehuda says: Wool strings exempt a garment made of linen, strings of linen exempt a garment made of wool, and strings of wool and linen exempt a garment in any case, i.e., all garments, and even garments made from silks [beshira’in].

What is normally forbidden becomes holy when directed toward mitzvah. The same combination of materials that is forbidden in ordinary life becomes sacred when woven into a garment meant to remind us of God’s commandments.

The gem: Context transforms. Holiness is not just about separation — it is about purpose. When our lives are woven intentionally toward something sacred, even unlikely combinations can become beautiful.

Menachot 38

On our daf today we get a new Mishna! (Woohoo!) It let’s us know that even if we can’t do things perfectly or completely, we should still do the mitzvot we can:

MISHNA: The absence of the sky-blue [tekhelet] strings does not prevent fulfillment of the mitzva of ritual fringes with the white strings, and the absence of white strings does not prevent fulfillment of the mitzva with the sky-blue strings. If one has only one, he wears it without the other. Absence of the phylacteries of the arm does not prevent fulfillment of the mitzva of the phylacteries of the head, and absence of the phylacteries of the head does not prevent fulfillment of the mitzva of the phylacteries of the arm. If one has only one, he dons it without the other.

A beautiful lesson – do what you can. Don’t let your desire for perfection get in the way of doing what’s possible.

Menachot 37

Today, the daf shifts from focusing on what is in tefillin (phylacteries, please see photos below) to how to wrap tefillin. And my gem comes in the daf’s acknowledgement and inclusion of people who are differently made.

The first is the person who by birth or circumstance does not have a right arm:

Others say: “Your arm,” i.e., yadkha, serves to include one without a complete arm, i.e., one whose arm ends at the elbow, in the obligation to don phylacteries, as the remaining part is also categorized as a weak arm. It is taught in another baraita: If one does not have a left arm, i.e., not even above the elbow, he is exempt from the mitzva of phylacteries.

The second, is a bit more rare . . .

The Sage Peleimu raised a dilemma before Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi: In the case of one who has two heads, on which of them does he don phylacteries? Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said to him: Either get up and exile yourself from here or accept upon yourself excommunication for asking such a ridiculous question.

Pause, you already have to love this: the rabbi finds the question so ridiculously obvious he basically says – get out of here.

Here it is different, as the Merciful One makes it dependent on his skull.

Meaning each head needs to wear teffilin.

So we learn that all kinds of bodies are thought of and included in the mitzvot.

We have actor James Franco and a Chabad rabbi wrapping tefillin – for visual aide 🙂

Menachot 36

From wearing signs to being living signs, today’s gem is a good one.

The Gemara answers: Rabba bar Rav Huna derives the exemption from the obligation to don phylacteries on Shabbat from a different source, the source where Rabbi Akiva derives it from, as it is taught in a baraita that Rabbi Akiva says: One might have thought that a person should don phylacteries on Shabbatot and Festivals. To counter this, the verse states: “And it shall be for a sign for you on your arm, and for a remembrance between your eyes, so that God’s law shall be in your mouth; for with a strong arm God brought you out of Egypt” (Exodus 13:9). This teaches that the obligation to don phylacteries applies when the Jewish people require a sign to assert their status as God’s nation, i.e., during the week. This serves to exclude Shabbatot and Festivals, as they themselves are signs of the Jewish people’s status as God’s nation and a remembrance of the exodus from Egypt. Consequently, no further sign is required on these days.

Here, the Gemara asks why we do not wear tefillin on Shabbat and Festivals. Rabbi Akiva answers by pointing to the verse: “And it shall be for a sign for you on your arm…” (Exodus 13:9).

Tefillin are called a sign — a visible marker of our covenant with God. But Shabbat and Festivals are also called a sign. And, the Gemara teaches, when the day itself is a sign, we do not need another one.

During the week, we wrap the covenant onto our bodies. On Shabbat, we are meant to embody it without props. The rhythm of the day — rest, prayer, sanctified time — becomes the sign.

The Gem: There are moments when we wear reminders of who we are, and moments when we are meant to live them so fully that no external symbol is needed. The goal is not just to carry signs of holiness — but to become them.

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