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

More inheritance rules. And more feminism! … that gets rejected.

Through some a fortiori reference the Gemara says that since both sons and daughters inherit their mothers, the sons should have priority in inheriting just as they do when their father passes away.

Boo. But it’s not just me who thinks so.

Rabbi Zekharya ben HaKatzav argues that sons and daughters should share equally in the mother’s estate. Yay another feminist!

Then we see that a bunch of other rabbis agree and want to follow Rabbi Zekharya ben HaKatzav’s ruling, and the Jerusalem Talmud when says that the Babylonian Sages had a tradition that followed his teaching.

Yay! So…women’s equality? Nope.

The halakha follows the other opinion, and boys inherit first with both the father and mother’s estate.

The fight for women’s rights . . . on the daf! And Rav Pappa is the one fighting for daughters everywhere:

The inheritance law says Sons with regard to their father. The Gemara asks: From where do we derive this halakha that sons inherit the entire estate and daughters do not receive a share along with them? As it is written: “If a man dies, and has no son, then you shall pass his inheritance to his daughter” (Numbers 27:8). The reason the inheritance would be passed to a daughter is that he has no son, but if he has a son, the son takes precedence.

But Rav Pappa will have none of this!

Rav Pappa said to Abaye: Why not say the following: If there is only a son, let the son inherit the father’s estate; if there is only a daughter, let the daughter inherit the father’s estate and if there is both a son and a daughter… this one should not inherit all of the estate, and that one should not inherit all of the estate, but they should inherit it in equal portions to one another.

Yes! Rav Pappa – feminist hero standing up to Abaye. But he doesn’t stop there, the rest of the daf arguments are made as to why a son is a “closer” relation than a daughter – and each argument gets knocked down.

Did feminism win? No. But each blow has helped the fight to establish a more equal and just world. So, thanks Rav Pappa, for giving some good punches to wound the patriarchy.

The daf is discussing inheritance and when you inherit from the mothers side verses the fathers side when we get this juicy aside from the Book of Judges. I will paste it and then break it down a bit.

But it is written in the episode of Micah forming an idol to be worshipped: “And there was a young man of Bethlehem in Judah of the family of Judah who was a Levite, and he sojourned there” (Judges 17:7). The Gemara explains the difficulty: This matter itself is difficult. You said: “Who was a Levite,” as apparently he came from the tribe of Levi, but the verse says: “Of the family of Judah,” so apparently he came from the tribe of Judah. Rather, is it not that his father was from the tribe of Levi and his mother was from the tribe of Judah, and yet the verse says that he was: “Of the family of Judah”? This appears to prove that one’s mother’s family is also called his family. Rava bar Rav Ḥanan said in response: No, the verse speaks of a man whose name was Levi, but his father was of the tribe of Judah. The Gemara asks: If that is so, how is that which Micah said when that man agreed to serve as his priest: “Now I know that the Lord will do me good, seeing that I have a Levite as my priest” (Judges 17:13), understood? It is understood only if he was an actual Levite, not if he was from the tribe of Judah and named Levi. Rava bar Rav Ḥanan responded: Yes, it is understood. Micah understood the fact that a man whose name is Levi happened upon him as an auspicious sign.

According to the story at the end of Judges, during a period when “there was no king in Israel, every man did that which was right in his own eyes,” a guy named Micha (not to be confused with the prophet Micah) steels money from his mom, who then gives it to a “priest” to create an idol. Then a Levite from Bethlehem in Judah in comes and Micha is happy to have this Levite serve as priest in his temple.

Here’s where the daf steps in. If this guy is a Levite, then he is from the tribe of Levi! But, the text identifies him as being from the tribe of Judah as well! So, the logical conclusion is that one parent is from Levi and the other Judah. But, Rava is having none of this and says his name was LEvi but his tribe is Judah.

The Gemara then rejects this arguing that the text states clearly he is a Levite. But is it so that his name was indeed Levi; but wasn’t Jonathan his name, as it is stated: “And Jonathan, the son of Gershom, the son of Manasseh, he and his sons were priests to the tribe of the Danites” (Judges 18:30)

But there is another difficulty! But is it so that he was the son of Manasseh; but wasn’t he the son of Moses, as it is written: “The sons of Moses: Gershom and Eliezer” (I Chronicles 23:15)?

If this guy was a Levite, he would be the grandson of Moses (yes – that Moses!) – but the text calls him “son of Menasseh. Why? Well, Menashe was an evil king of Judea – and this guy is acting wickedly as well. So, we connect him to the evil king, instead of Moses.

Wow! Drama. The gems? Besides the family drama and even Moses having wicked offspring?

That even the Torah recounts bad people who seem to make it to high places and have “successful” lives. But, they are remembered for the wicked they did. Money can give us power, but it’s up to us to be good people. And it’s the good people we remember fondly and teach others about.

I read the daf today after making sure my books are prepared for Yom Kippur. So, it fits to read this daf after reading Unataneh Tokef and thinking of all the terrible losses we have experienced.

Our daf talks about – who inherits from who when someone dies.

The Gemara begins by clarifying the order of the list in the mishna. What is different, i.e., what is the reason, that the mishna teaches: A father with regard to his sons, as the first example? Let it teach: Sons with regard to their father, as the first example. The Gemara explains why this would be preferable: One reason is that we do not want to begin with a calamity, as the death of a son during his father’s lifetime is a calamity…

I buried a 99.5 year old woman this morning. Her 4 kids, 8 grandkids, and 11 great grandchildren were all there. That is how it’s supposed to be.

But it doesn’t always happen that way.

This year, we have seen too many parents bury their kids. Too many more kids who have been taken hostage. Recently, loss of life and destruction by water, and in Israel, by fire.

It’s a calamity. It’s not how it’s supposed to be.

And still, even then, we inherit from them. The good in them lives in through us.

My freshman year of high school I was going to a brand new school where I knew very few people. (I had been at a magnet school and this was my neighborhood feeder school.) So, when we were told to pick partners for math, I was really excited when a guy rushed over to me to be my partner. I thought: Yay! People wanted to be my friend! But then he turned to me and said, “You’re Jewish right? Jews are good with numbers.”

I was crushed. And, also, I am and was very good with numbers. But, apparently not all Jews are as we can see on the daf . . .

The Sages taught in a baraita (Tosefta, Ketubot 11:2): In a case of three experts who went down to assess a certain property in order to determine the amount to be collected from it for repayment of a debt, and one says it is worth one hundred dinars, and the other two say it is worth two hundred, or one says it is worth two hundred dinars and the other two say it is worth one hundred, the assessment of the single expert is nullified, since his is the minority opinion, and the assessment of the two others is accepted.

Okay. So, if 2 out of 3 say it’s worth a certain amount, we accept their ruling. Fine. But what if all 3 give different numbers?

If one says the property is worth one hundred dinars, and another says it is worth twenty sela, (= eighty dinars) and yet another says it is worth thirty sela (120 dinars), it is assessed at one hundred dinars, which is the average of the assessments, as it is equivalent to twenty-five sela.

Okay, so three judges assess and give three different numbers: 80, 100, and 120 we take the average = 100. Easy and good! But, or course, not all agree:

Rabbi Eliezer, son of Rabbi Tzadok, says: It is assessed at ninety dinars. Aḥerim say: An appraisal is performed of the sum between the two most extreme assessments and then divided by three. This sum is then added to the lowest assessment.

Oh good Lord.

Let’s keep those same numbers. According to Rabbi Eliezer, we would take the two lowest numbers, 80 and 100, and take their average = 90.

According to Aherim (judges in the Diaspora), we take the two extremes, 80 and 120, take the difference (120-80=40), and then divide by three (13.3333). Finally, we add this number to the lowest number = 93.3333.

But, the rabbis didn’t like math of those “Aherim”:

Rav Huna said: The halakha is in accordance with the judges of the Diaspora. Rav Ashi said: We do not even understand the reasoning of the judges of the Diaspora; shall we then establish the halakha in accordance with their opinion?

The math, just too hard. But, at least we can see why the diaspora are ruling the way they are – they are trying to factor in the opinions of all three judges and find a fair compromise.

But why would we only factor in the two lowest numbers? The least beneficial? There is a principal

There is a Talmudic idiom, Tafasta merube lo tafasta (Hebrew: תָּפַסְתָּ מְרֻבֶּה, לֹא תָּפַסְתָּ, “If you have seized a lot, you have not seized”). The idea is that when it is possible to take a particular law from two different sources, it should be taken from the narrower of the two, in order to stay on the safe side. It’s like the english expression “A bird in hand is worth two in the bush,” meaning it’s better to be content with what you have than to risk losing everything by seeking more.

The gem is two-fold. 1) Be grateful for what you have and don’t worry about those who have more. 2) To be a good Jew, you don’t have to be good at math, but you DO have to try and be a grateful person who tries to do good.

When, in life, would it be a good time to find out your dad has a secret child you never knew about? Never. But after you and your brother divided the estate after his death is probably the least ideal.

If two brothers divided their father’s estate between them, and then later a third brother, of whose existence they had previously been unaware, arrived from a country overseas, Rav says: The original division of the property is void, and the brothers must now redivide the property among the three of them. And Shmuel says: The original division is still valid, but the two brothers must each take off a share from their portion and give it to the third brother.

Not much of a gem here, but again, fodder for a book full of drama based on the Talmud . . .

Today’s daf continues the struggle to understand confusing language around purchasing. Here the example is, if a seller says you can rent the apartment for 12 dinar a year, one dinar a month. What do we do when it’s a leap year and there are 13 months?! (This is what happens on the Jewish calendar.)

The entire daf debates this question. At the end we learn that the deal always favors the owner, not the renter.

Again, thinking of the High Holy Days, our souls are just lent to us, they belong to God.So, we owe it all to God.

A great gem for this moment. Please ignore what I said before and only hold me accountable to what I am saying now.

MISHNA: If the seller says to the buyer: I am selling you a plot of land of a certain size measured precisely with a rope more or less, thereby attaching to the sale two contradictory stipulations; in this case, the words: More or less, nullify the words: Measured precisely with a rope. Accordingly, if the surplus did not exceed a quarter-kav per se’a, the sale is valid as is. Similarly, if the seller says to the buyer: I am selling you a plot of land of a certain size more or less measured precisely with a rope, the words: Measured precisely with a rope, nullify the words: More or less, since the principle is that in all cases, one should attend to the final expression; this is the statement of ben Nanas.

We see that a person is held liable for what they have said the most recently, not what they said before. It’s so perfect for this time as we approach Yom Kippur. Please, God, don’t hold us accountable for what we did and said before, only hold us accountable for what we do and say now. Forgive the past . . . don’t judge us based on then.

This text is a text for a growth mindset, that we may change our minds! We can and should be growing and doing better than we had before.

How precise are we with our words?

MISHNA: If one says to another: I am selling you a plot of earth the size of a beit kor, measured precisely with a rope, and he gave him even the slightest amount less than what was stipulated, the seller must deduct the difference from the purchase price of the field and return money to the buyer. If he gave him even the slightest amount more than what was stipulated, the buyer must return the difference to the seller. And if the seller said to the buyer that he is selling him a beit kor of land more or less, then even if he gave him a quarter-kav per se’a less than what was stipulated, or he gave him a quarter-kav per se’a more that what was stipulated, i.e., he gave him one twenty-fourth more or less than what was required, it is his. The sale is valid, since the seller told the buyer in advance that he was not committing himself to precise measurements. If the difference is greater than that amount, he must make a calculation, and the party that suffered a loss must be compensated.

Here we see how important our language is. The rabbis prefer that we be precise so there is no confusion between the two parties. However, the addition of “more or less” or “about” allows some wiggle room.

As we are in the days of awe, we hope that God won’t be so precise in judgement, but will give us a little wiggle room.

Today, on the daf, a burial chamber is found that doesn’t match either the measurements given by the Tanna Kamma (the anonymous voice in the daf) or Rabbi Shimon’s opinions. And one possibility is that “here we are dealing with a case where the corpses found were of non-viable newborns buried in a smaller chamber only six cubits long.”

How sad and yet powerful. Losing a newborn, or having a stillborn, is horrifically painful. There is contradiction in Jewish law about burial practices around the loss of a baby that does not live beyond 30 days. But here we see that parents did bury their children. They did get to mourn. They did, at least, have the gift of saying goodbye with Jewish ritual. (evidence of this is found explicitly in the Talmud Yerushalmi)