Chullin 25

We get a new Mishna today that is discussing when almonds are required to be tithed. Small bitter almonds are edible, but once they grow larger they become too bitter to eat. At least, that is the assumption until Rabbi Yoḥanan adds one small detail: the large bitter almonds can still become sweet “by roasting them on the fire.”

The Gemara asks: And according to the one who says to obligate both this small almond and that large almond, for what use are the large almonds fit? They are bitter and unfit for consumption. Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Since one can sweeten them by means of roasting them on the fire, this renders them fit for consumption.

The bitterness is real. But Rabbi Yoḥanan seems to suggest is that bitterness is not always final. Sometimes what matters is what happens when something passes through heat, through struggle, through time.

There is something hopeful here about people too. We often write ourselves off too quickly, or write off others. We decide someone is too difficult, too angry, too damaged, too hardened to become anything else., but the Talmud imagines transformation where others see only bitterness. A person may still contain hidden sweetness…

Sometimes it just takes fire to reveal it.

Chullin 24

How long do you pursue something before giving up/switching gears? The daf gives us an idea by pointing out an inconsistency in the age the Torah says a Levite serves. . .

The baraita notes that one verse states: “From twenty-five years old and upward” (Numbers 8:24), and one verse states: “From thirty years old and upward” (Numbers 4:47). It is impossible to say thirty, as twenty-five is already stated, and it is impossible to say twenty-five, as thirty is already stated. How can these verses be reconciled? Twenty-five years old is the time for apprenticeship and thirty for service. From here it is derived that a student who did not see a positive indication in his studies after five years will no longer see a productive result from those studies.

So, give it 5 years and if you haven’t made progress – move on?

At first, that sounds discouraging. Most of us can probably think of areas in life where growth took longer than expected. However, I don’t think the point of the passage is about giving up quickly – I think it is about paying attention to what fits and what doesn’t.

The rabbis seem to understand that there is a difference between struggle that leads somewhere and struggle that leaves a person stuck. There is a kind of holy persistence, but there is also wisdom in recognizing when a path is not becoming life-giving.

Sometimes we spend years trying to become someone we are not. We force ourselves into careers, relationships, identities, or expectations because we think success means enduring long enough to eventually fit. And sometimes the bravest thing a person can do is admit: this is not where my gifts come alive.

The passage also honors the value of apprenticeship itself. We are allowed to be learners before we are leaders. But apprenticeship is supposed to reveal something over time, and if, after years, that spark never comes, the Talmud suggests that it may not be a personal failure, it may simply be a sign pointing us somewhere else.

Chullin 23

There’s a passage in Talmud Chullin 23 that, on the surface, feels almost painfully technical.

Rabbi Zeira raises a dilemma: With regard to one who says: It is incumbent upon me to bring an animal burnt offering of a ram, which is a sheep that is at least thirteen months old, or of a lamb, which is up to one year old, and he brought a palges, which is between one year and thirteen months old, what is the halakha?

As you can see, the rabbis are discussing age requirements for sacrificial animals (we get a stage between childhood and adulthood – cue Brittany Spears “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman.”) But we CAN get a great lesson from this:

The rabbis notice that sometimes a person or animal can be fit for a sacred role one day and no longer fit the very next day simply because they have crossed an age threshold. Nothing dramatic happened, they did not suddenly become unworthy or flawed, the role simply no longer belongs to that stage of life.

And honestly, I think many of us struggle with that idea.

We sometimes hold on tight to identities that once defined us: the work we used to do, the version of ourselves that once felt successful, the way we parented when our children were younger, the energy or certainty we had in another chapter of life. We often assume that growth means remaining the same person forever, just more accomplished.

But the Talmud imagines something different. It assumes that life changes us, and that those changes are not failures. They are part of what it means to live truthfully.

There are seasons in life (now cue “tun, turn turn” from Ecclesiates and put to music by the Byrds). Some seasons are for building. Some are for leading. Some are for questioning. Some are for stepping back and making room for others. One form of service can end without a person losing their dignity or worth.

I think that is especially hard for us today. We live in a culture that resists aging, resists limitation, resists transition. We are constantly encouraged to stay productive, stay relevant, stay youthful. But Chullin 23 suggests that holiness does not come from pretending nothing changes. Holiness comes from recognizing what this moment of life is asking of us now.

Not every chapter is supposed to look the same. Not every strength is meant to last forever in the same form. Sometimes wisdom is knowing when a role that once fit beautifully no longer fits in the same way.

That is not decline. It is maturation.

And maybe one of the spiritual tasks of adulthood is learning to ask, again and again: Who does this stage of life require me to become?

Chullin 22

Today’s daf talks about the sacrifice of a turtledove verses the sacrifice of a pidgeon. And from this we get a gorgeous gem from the Rambam, just wait!!

Doves, when they are older, are fit for sacrifice; when they are younger, they are unfit. Pigeons, when they are younger, are fit for sacrifice; when they are older, they are unfit.

So, why only older doves and younger pigeons? Teh anser, and the gem, some from the Rambam in his commentary to Leviticus 1:14:

God chose grown-up turtledoves because they abstain [from pairing with strangers] and attach themselves only to their mates, and once they lose their companions they never associate with others. So Israel cleave to the Eternal their God, and never attach themselves to another deity. Pigeons, on the other hand, are very jealous and as a result of their jealousy they part [from their previous mates] and take on other mates. Therefore God chose them [as offerings] only when they are young, before their mating begins, for as long as the pigeon is young it is attached with greater love to the nest where it is reared than are all other fowls. Our Rabbis have mentioned that if a person touches the nest of all other fowls to take therefrom the young ones or the eggs, they leave it and never nest therein again, but the pigeon never abandons it under any condition. And so is [the people of] Israel: They will never exchange their Creator and His Torah.”

Gorgeous.

Chullin 21

How do you call time of death? Is it when the brain dies? The heart stops beating?

In our world today, we have instruments that let us know when someone is no longer alive. But, in the time of the Talmud, these things didn’t exist. Because a corpse imparts impurity, the time of death was still very important to the rabbis. Today, they wonder when we consider someone to have died . . . and in doing so compare various ways of dying to those of animals!

If one ripped a person like one cuts a fish, lengthwise, the halakhic status of the ripped person is that of a corpse even though he is still convulsing, and he imparts impurity in a tent.

If their heads were removed, even if they are convulsing, they are impure like the tail of a lizard that was severed that convulses even though it is not alive.

And, like a bird, If the neck bone of a person was broken and a majority of the surrounding flesh with it was cut, that person imparts impurity in a tent.

Nasty stuff. But, it also makes sense. We need to know when life (at least in it’s physical form) ends. Most of us don’t witness gruesome deaths where a person is filleted, maimed, or partially or completely decapitated. However, farmers will have seen this with animals. They know that chickens still run, even when their head is cut off, fish twitch even when sliced open, and lizard tails wiggle even when separated form the body. So they use this to understand that there may be post mortem movement from human bodies as well.

The gems: 1) we continue to learn so much about life from animals; and 2) determining time of death has always been a question of concern.

Chullin 20

We have been learning about how to slaughter meat in places (and times) outside of the Temple. We have learned that slaughtering animals outside of the Temple is similar to inside the Temple- the animal must die with the first act of slaughter, must not suffer, must be slaughtered and not stabbed, etc.

But what about birds?

If you recall, the sacrifice of birds was very different than other animals, the priest had to hold it a particular way and sever the neck with his thumb nail. This was called melica and described as the hardest of all the sacrifices.

If you ever wonder why you’ve never seen this, today’s daf lets us know: melica is only for the Temple. Now, birds for consumption are killed through similar slaughter to that of other animals.

What’s the gem? In Hebrew, stiff-necked means stubborn. There is something magical about the idea that the way to deal with stubborn people is to use your hand, not a knife. We can pull from this that if want someone to be flexible, we shouldn’t try to change them through force, instead we need to treat them with warmth,

Chullin 19

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone who seems to always just want to disagree with anything you say? I can just drive you crazy. My favorite moment on the top today is when a rabbi gets all in a huff because no matter what he says, another ribbon expert disagrees with him. 

If one cut one-third of the windpipe properly, and then diverted the knife and cut one-third, and then cut the final one-third of the windpipe properly, Rav Yehuda says that Rav said: The slaughter is valid. When the Sages came and asked Rav Huna, he said to them: It is tereifa. Rav Yehuda heard the ruling of Rav Huna, and he was angry. He said: I deem it tereifa and he deems the slaughter valid, and I deem the slaughter valid and he deems it tereifa. Rav Huna said: It is proper that he was angry.

Just a little reminder that Rabbi are human too, and get frustrated with one another. The true gem is even in moments of frustration, trying to understand where the other person is coming from. 

Chullin 18

Today’s daf has such a beautiful passage. In a discussion about kosher slaughter, we learn that if someone slaughters meat without presenting the knife to the religious authority, that the slaughter is not kosher, in fact, they are ostracized form the community and they cover the meat in excrement so it’s not sold to anyone. (Don’t worry, not the beautiful part.)

This happens, a man fails to ask the authorities and slaughters meat. He is ostracized, but the rabbi who ostracizes him sees that he has children who are dependant on him. So, what does he do? He asks two other rabbis to examine the slaughtering knife so that they can rule the slaughter valid.

That’s the beautiful thing. This rabbi is more concerned with the slaughterer’s family and ability to support them than he is with his own honor.

Beautiful.

Here is the passage in full:

Apropos the obligation to show the knife to a Torah scholar, Rav Huna says: This slaughterer who did not present [sar] the knife before a Torah scholar, we ostracize him. And Rava says: We remove him from his position and we proclaim about meat from an animal that he slaughtered that it is tereifa. The Gemara notes: And they do not disagree. Here, where Rav Huna says that he is ostracized, it is in a case where his knife was discovered intact, and he is ostracized for treating the scholar with contempt. There, where Rava says that his slaughter is proclaimed tereifa, it is in a case where his knife was discovered not intact, as in that case the meat from all animals that he slaughtered is suspect. Ravina said: In a case where his knife was discovered not to be intact, one spreads excrement on the flesh so that even to a gentile it will not be sold. There was a certain slaughterer who did not present his knife before Rava bar Ḥinnana. Rava bar Ḥinnana ostracized him, and removed him from his position, and proclaimed about meat from an animal that he slaughtered that it is tereifa. Mar Zutra and Rav Ashi happened before Rava bar Ḥinnana in his place of residence. Rava bar Ḥinnana said to them: Let the Sages examine the matter of the slaughterer, as small children are dependent upon him. Rav Ashi examined his knife and it was discovered intact, and he deemed his meat fit for consumption. Mar Zutra said to Rav Ashi: And shouldn’t the Master be concerned for the honor of the elder, Rava bar Ḥinnana, who removed him from his position and you restored him? Rav Ashi said to Mar Zutra: We are carrying out his agency, as he requested that we examine the matter of the slaughterer.

Chullin 17

Have pigs ever been kosher? No. But have Jews ever been permitted to eat them? Yes! Apparently for 7 years…

If we say that the dilemma is with regard to the seven years during which they conquered the land, now, non-kosher items were permitted for them during that period, as it is written: “And it shall be, when the Lord your God shall bring you into the land that He swore to your fathers, and houses full of all good things…and you shall eat and be satisfied” (Deuteronomy 6:10–11), and Rabbi Yirmeya bar Abba says that Rav says: Cuts of pig meat [kotlei daḥazirei] that they found in the houses were permitted for them…

So, for 7 years Jews were permitted to eat pig!! By the way, this sets a law. The Rambam teaches, that it’s at any time when we would otherwise starve.

Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 8:1

חֲלוּצֵי צָבָא כְּשֶׁיִּכָּנְסוּ בִּגְבוּל הָעַכּוּ”ם וְיִכְבְּשׁוּם וְיִשְׁבּוּ מֵהֶן. מֻתָּר לָהֶן לֶאֱכל נְבֵלוֹת וּטְרֵפוֹת וּבְשַׂר חֲזִיר וְכַיּוֹצֵא בּוֹ אִם יִרְעַב וְלֹא מָצָא מַה יֹּאכַל אֶלָּא מַאֲכָלוֹת אֵלּוּ הָאֲסוּרִים. וְכֵן שׁוֹתֶה יֵין נֶסֶךְ. מִפִּי הַשְּׁמוּעָה לָמְדוּ וּבָתִּים מְלֵאִים כָּל טוּב עָרְפֵּי חֲזִירִים וְכַיּוֹצֵא בָּהֶן: When the army’s troops enter the territory of gentiles, conquering them and taking them captive, they are permitted to eat meat from animals that died without being ritually slaughtered or which were trefe, and the flesh of pigs and similar animals, if they become hungry and can only find these forbidden foods.
Similarly, they may drink wine used in the worship of idols. This license is derived by the Oral Tradition which interprets Deuteronomy 6:10-11: ‘God… will give you… houses filled with all the good things’ as ‘pigs’ necks and the like.’

Chullin 16

Okay not the real gem, but, on our daf today, we learn that the rabbis refer to the rectum as “lower teeth.”

Now to the gem – the daf showing a reform in Judaism! (Hey, that has a nice ring to it.)

The reform is the ability to eat meat that is not from the Temple. At first, we were forbidden, but later it was permitted. Why is this a gem? 1) It shows that, ideally, we would treat eating meat as special and sacred, and 2) Judaism has always reformed to meet the needs of the people.

Here is the passage, now enjoy your hamburger.

Rabba said: It is Rabbi Yishmael, as it is taught in a baraita with regard to the verse: “When the Lord your God shall expand your border, as He has promised you, and you shall say: I will eat flesh…you may eat flesh with all the desire of your soul” (Deuteronomy 12:20), Rabbi Yishmael says: The verse comes only to permit consumption of the non-sacrificial meat of desire to the Jewish people. As, at the outset, the meat of desire was forbidden to them, and anyone who wanted to eat meat would sacrifice the animal as an offering. After the priest sprinkled the blood, it was permitted for one to eat the meat. When they entered into Eretz Yisrael, the meat of desire was permitted for them, and they could slaughter and eat meat wherever they chose. Rabba added: And now that the Jewish people were exiled, might one have thought that they return to their initial prohibition? Therefore, we learned in the mishna: One may always slaughter non-sacrificial meat. Rav Yosef objects to this. If so, this phrase: One may always slaughter, is inappropriate; the tanna should have taught: One may always slaughter and eat, as the matter of permission primarily relates to eating the meat, not to slaughtering the animal. And furthermore, initially, what is the reason that the meat of desire was forbidden? It was because in the wilderness, they were proximate to the Tabernacle and could partake of sacrificial meat from the table of God. And ultimately, what is the reason that the meat of desire was permitted? The reason was that in Eretz Yisrael they were distant from the Tabernacle. And, if so, all the more so now, in exile, when they are even more distant from the Temple, the meat of desire should be permitted.

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