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

Misplaced trust is so hard.

On the daf, we are still discussing when we can trust someone in what they claim. We get a pretty amazing little passage that reminds me of a horrific story.

The Gemara relates: There was a certain shepherd to whom people would give their animals for safekeeping every day in the presence of witnesses. One day, they gave him their animals without witnesses. At the end of the day he said to the owners of the animals: This matter never occurred; I never received the animals. Witnesses came and testified against him that he ate two of them.

Oy vey! A man trusted for years and then he EATS the animals he is trusted to watch. And now the horrific story.

We had a survivor from Kfar Aza come and speak to us, he name is Avi. This man was a CPA and a businessman. Now, he has nothing. He had to leave his home and wasn’t allowed to come back. When he finally did, it had been looted by the terrorists. Avi was wearing donated clothing. He came to the United States because he was trying anything to get his son home. His son, Alon Shimriz, had been kidnapped on October 7th.

We asked about life before October 7th. Avi talked about fighting for peace along side his neighbors in Gaza. How he had driven a girl from Gaza to hospital appointments in Israel. How he, and the kibbutz, had hired people from Gaza. How he had trusted them and worked along side of them.

Then he shared how the same people he had employed used their knowledge of the kibbutz on October 7th. They knew exactly who was on guard and where they were. They knew where the guns were stored. They knew who was active in the military.

He had trusted them. They used everything they knew to cause the most damage. They kidnapped his son and many more. Went from home to home murdering and setting homes aflame.

The little girl he had driven to and from the hospital – her father was one of the master minds behind the attack.

Horrific. And true.

Avi’s son, Alon, was one of the 3 Israeli hostages that freed themselves and were accidentally killed by IDF soldiers.

It’s hard to imagine trusting again. So, this daf’s question of when can we trust still goes unanswered.

Liar, liar, pants on fire. . . wouldn’t it be great if we could spot a liar so easily? On TV and in movies, liars tend to lie chronically. (I think about Jim Carry in “Liar Liar.”) But in truth, people may lie in one part of their lives and not others. Or once but never again. On today’s daf, the rabbis are discussing someone who lies about what they owe and when and if we can trust them to tell the truth in another context.

It is notable in that the defendant does not assume the presumptive status of one who falsely denies his debts. He has not been proven to be lying, so he is trusted to take an oath. Would you say the same with regard to the case of two witnesses who contradict the defendant’s denial of the plaintiff’s claim, where the defendant assumes the presumptive status of one who falsely denies his debts? In this case, he is no longer deemed trustworthy and his oath may not be credible. The Gemara asks: But in a case where his denial is contradicted by two witnesses, does he assume the presumptive status of one who falsely denies his debts? But doesn’t Rav Idi bar Avin say that Rav Ḥisda says: One who denies a claim that he received a loan and is contradicted by witnesses is fit to bear witness in a different case. He does not assume the status of a confirmed liar, as perhaps he intended to return the money afterward and denied the claim only in order to buy time until he acquired the necessary funds to repay the loan. By contrast, if one denies receiving a deposit and witnesses testify that he is lying, he is disqualified from bearing witness in other cases, as in that case he has no reason to buy time and is clearly a robber.

I think what I like about this text is that it wants to believe people, it wants to trust that people are mostly honest and trustworthy until proven otherwise. Society cannot function without trust. We cannot enjoy life without trust. So, it’s better to trust and then be disappointed than to cut people off and go through life distrustful of others.

One great organization that exists is JELF, the Jewish Education Loan Fund. It gives interest free loans for college and higher education. In the times of the Talmud, Jews were not allowed to charge interest on loans. So, when we read today’s daf, we must keep this in mind. On our daf we learn that when someone denies they owe money, we believe them. However, when someone admits to owing part of what the creditor claims, we make them take an oath that they don’t owe more than they are admitting to. The obvious question is: why?

As Rabba says: For what reason did the Torah say that one who admits to part of the claim must take an oath? It is because there is a presumption that a person does not exhibit insolence by lying in the presence of his creditor, who had done him a favor by lending money to him. And this person who denies part of the claim actually wants to deny all of the debt, so as to be exempt, and this fact that he does not deny all of it is because a person does not exhibit insolence.

And in order not to exhibit insolence, this person wants to admit to the creditor with regard to all of the debt, and this fact that he denies owing him in part is because he reasons: If I admit to him with regard to all of the debt, he will lodge a claim against me with regard to all of it, and right now I do not have the money to pay. He was evading his creditor, and thought: I will continue doing so until I have money, and then I will pay him all of it. This rationalization enables one to falsely deny part of a claim. And therefore, the Merciful One states: Impose an oath on him, in order to ensure that he will admit to him with regard to all of the debt.

Rashi explains that Rabba’s teaching here on the daf is based on the fact that the creditor has done him a favor by loaning him the money. The creditor gets nothing out of the deal, he makes no money, it was really out of his own generosity and sense of obligation that he gave the money. Therefore, it’s pure insolence to look someone who did you a favor in the face and lie and basically steal from them.

This is, of course, assuming the person has character. Let’s live in a world where people have character and don’t lie in each other’s faces.

Welcome to a new tractate! It begins with something that appears pretty childish at first:

Once a person sees an item, he says: I found it, even if it did not yet come into his possession, because he believes that he acquired the item through mere sight. Since it would have been possible to understand the claim of: I found it, in this manner, the tanna teaches that the litigant states definitively: All of it is mine, to teach that one does not acquire a lost item through sight alone.

“I saw it first!” You know what happens after that – two people are fighting over an item. That’s what’s happening on the daf.

The deeper part of this is the understanding that we can’t just see something and do nothing. We have to act. So it is in life. We can’t just see pain and injustice, we have to do something about it.

Enjoy this gif from Rugrats – what I thought of when reading the daf!

We are on the last page in Bava Kamma! Mazal tov! An entire book about theft and robbery ends with a perfect gem for why we needed 119 pages about theft.

The Gemara examines various verses pertaining to robbers. “For what is the hope of the godless, though he profits, when God takes away his soul?” (Job 27:8). This verse is the subject of a dispute between Rav Huna and Rav Ḥisda. One says that the phrase “God takes away his soul” is referring to the soul of the robbed, and one says that it is referring to the soul of the robber.

When we rob someone we take more than the item, we take their trust, their comfort, here it says even their soul.

When we rob someone we rob ourselves of the purity and beauty of our souls. We take away from who God intended us to be.

Hadran Bava Kamma!

If I steel something, but return it before the owner notices it’s gone- is that still steeling? Is it really a problem? No harm, no foul, right?

MISHNA: In the case of one who stole a lamb from a flock and returned it without informing the owner that he had done so, and then it died or was stolen, the thief is liable to pay restitution for it. If the lamb’s owners did not know about the entire incident, i.e., they did not know that it was stolen and they did not know that it was returned, and they counted the flock of sheep and found it whole, the thief is exempt from paying.

Sounds like it’s okay as long as the animal comes back in one piece. Btu the gem comes from the Mishnah Torah, Maimonides code of law, which clarifies this Mishnah and the following discussion in the Gemara (Mishneh Torah, Theft 4:12):

If the owner did not know that the lamb was stolen or returned, the thief is liable until he informs the owner, so that he will pay more attention to the stolen lamb. This is necessary, because the thief taught it a way other than that followed by the other sheep in this herd.

LOVE this. This stolen animal now needs extra attention because it has learned other ways of living.

I think of all the things we experience in life, and how you can’t un-expose someone to what they’ve seen and experienced. You can’t unsee, undo. We can go and come back but we are never the same. Sometimes this is for the better, sometimes not, but it’s never forgotten.

The daf is telling a wild tale today! I love it when there is aggadah – stories. The rabbis are discussing liability when someone shows the property of another person and that other person then steels the property. Does the show off owe the owner anything?

Then, like it has so many times before, the daf goes on a tangent. And it’s fabulous! Murder, battle of brains, humility, and resurrection!

The Gemara relates another incident: There was a certain man who desired to show another individual’s straw to the gentile authorities, who would seize it. He came before Rav, who said to him: Do not show it and do not show it, i.e., you are absolutely prohibited from showing it. The man said to him: I will show it and I will show it, i.e., I will certainly show it. Rav Kahana was sitting before Rav, and, hearing the man’s disrespectful response, he dislodged the man’s neck from him, i.e., he broke his neck and killed him.

Murder!!! Rav Kahana murders this man for his disrespect.

Seeing Rav Kahana’s action, Rav read the following verse about him: “Your sons have fainted, they lie at the head of all the streets, as an antelope in a net” (Isaiah 51:20). Just as with regard to this antelope, once it falls into the net, the hunter does not have mercy upon it, so too with regard to the money of a Jew, once it falls into the hand of gentiles, they do not have mercy upon him, i.e., the Jew. Since gentiles who seek a Jew’s money will kill him in order to seize the property, Rav Kahana acted appropriately when he broke the miscreant’s neck, as he protected the Jew’s property and, by extension, the Jew himself.

So Rav thinks he did the right thing!

Rav then said to Rav Kahana: Kahana, until now there were Persian rulers who were not particular about bloodshed. But now there are Greeks who are particular about bloodshed, and they will say: Murder [meradin], murder, and they will press charges against you. Therefore, get up and ascend to Eretz Yisrael to study there under Rabbi Yoḥanan, and accept upon yourself that you will not raise any difficulties to the statements of Rabbi Yoḥanan for seven years.

So, they will get you for murder, so run away! But go and study, just don’t disagree with Rabbi Yochanan.

Rav Kahana went to Eretz Yisrael and found Reish Lakish, who was sitting and reviewing Rabbi Yoḥanan’s daily lecture in the academy for the Rabbis, i.e., the students in the academy. When he finished, Rav Kahana said to the students: Where is Reish Lakish? They said to him: Why do you wish to see him? Rav Kahana said to them: I have this difficulty and that difficulty with his review of Rabbi Yoḥanan’s lecture, and this resolution and that resolution to the questions he raised. They told this to Reish Lakish. Reish Lakish then went and said to Rabbi Yoḥanan: A lion has ascended from Babylonia, and the Master ought to examine the discourse he will deliver in the academy tomorrow, as Rav Kahana may raise difficult questions about the material.

So he comes and impresses Reish Lakish, Rabbi Yohanan’s favorite student and best friend. But, will he impress Rabbi Yohanan?

The next day, they seated Rav Kahana in the first row, in front of Rabbi Yoḥanan. Rabbi Yoḥanan stated a halakha and Rav Kahana did not raise a difficulty, in accordance with Rav’s instruction. Rabbi Yoḥanan stated another halakha and again, Rav Kahana did not raise a difficulty. As a result, they placed Rav Kahana further back by one row. This occurred until he had been moved back seven rows, until he was seated in the last row. Rabbi Yoḥanan said to Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish: The lion you mentioned has become a fox, i.e., he is not knowledgeable.

Nope! Rav Kahana is silent and so he gets demoted and Rabbi Yohanan is not impressed.

Rav Kahana said to himself: May it be God’s will that these seven rows I have been moved should replace the seven years that Rav told me to wait before raising difficulties to the statements of Rabbi Yoḥanan. He stood up on his feet and said to Rabbi Yoḥanan: Let the Master go back to the beginning of the discourse and repeat what he said. Rabbi Yoḥanan stated a halakha and Rav Kahana raised a difficulty. Therefore, they placed him in the first row, and again, Rav Yoḥanan stated a halakha, and he raised a difficulty. Rabbi Yoḥanan was sitting upon seven cushions [bistarkei] so that he could be seen by all the students, and since he could not answer Rav Kahana’s questions, he removed one cushion from under himself to demonstrate that he was lowering himself out of respect for Rav Kahana. He then stated another halakha and Rav Kahana raised another difficulty. This happened repeatedly until Rabbi Yoḥanan removed all the cushions from underneath himself until he was sitting on the ground.

Wow! Now the two are sitting as equals. This is great. But it gets even crazier.

Rabbi Yoḥanan was an old man and his eyebrows drooped over his eyes. He said to his students: Uncover my eyes for me and I will see Rav Kahana, so they uncovered his eyes for him with a silver eye brush. Once his eyes were uncovered, Rabbi Yoḥanan saw that Rav Kahana’s lips were split and thought that Rav Kahana was smirking at him. As a result, Rabbi Yoḥanan was offended, and Rav Kahana died as punishment for the fact that he offended Rabbi Yoḥanan.

If looks could kill! Well, he was killed because of his looks . . . (love the propping open of the eyelids too; in Miami you would just get an eye lift. . . )

The next day, Rabbi Yoḥanan said to the Rabbis, his students: Did you see how that Babylonian, Rav Kahana, behaved in such a disrespectful manner? They said to him: His usual manner of appearance is such, and he was not mocking you. Hearing this, Rabbi Yoḥanan went up to Rav Kahana’s burial cave and saw that it was encircled by a serpent [akhna], which had placed its tail in its mouth, completely encircling the cave and blocking the entrance. Rabbi Yoḥanan said to it: Serpent, serpent, open your mouth and allow the teacher to enter and be near the disciple, but the serpent did not open its mouth to allow him entry. He then said: Allow a colleague to enter and be near his colleague, but still the serpent did not open its mouth. Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Allow the disciple to enter and be near the teacher, referring to Rav Kahana as his own teacher. The snake then opened its mouth for him to allow him entry.

Ummmm, didn’t I see this in s a movie once? Was it Harry Potter talking to the magical snake? Either way, we have Rabbi Yohanan entering the crypt of the dead Rav Kahana. What will happen next?

Rabbi Yoḥanan requested divine mercy from God and raised Rav Kahana from the dead.

Tada!!! Resurrection of the dead. Who said only God could do that miracle?

Rabbi Yoḥanan said to Rav Kahana: Had I known that this was the Master’s manner of appearance, I would not have been offended. Now let the Master come with me to the study hall.

My bad. Sorry about that whole killing you thing. Let’s go study!

Rav Kahana said to him: If you are able to request divine mercy so that I will not die again, I will go with you, and if not, I will not go with you.

I am not so sure you’re a safe person to learn with.

The Gemara comments: Since the time decreed for his death had passed, it had passed. Rabbi Yoḥanan then completely awakened him and stood him up. Thereafter, he asked him about every uncertainty that he had, and Rav Kahana resolved each of them for him. And this is the background to that which Rabbi Yoḥanan says to his students on several occasions: What I said was yours is in fact theirs, i.e., I thought that the Torah scholars in Eretz Yisrael were the most advanced, but in fact the scholars of Babylonia are the most advanced, as evidenced by Rav Kahana’s knowledge.

And they all lived happily ever after . . . .

Oh wait, they forgot that Rav Kahana actually broke someone’s neck – and didn’t bring that person back to life. But, the daf continues without another thought to the whole scene.

Yesterday, the daf introduced a new Mishnah which asks us if we are willing to sacrifice something that is ours in order to help someone else rescue something that is theirs.

MISHNA: In a situation where this individual came with his barrel of wine, and that individual came with his jug of honey, if the barrel of honey cracked and this first individual poured out his wine and salvaged the other’s honey, which is worth more than the wine, by collecting it into his wine barrel, the owner of the wine has the right to collect only his wage, i.e., compensation for the effort he put into salvaging the honey. He is not, however, entitled to compensation for the wine itself. But if the owner of the wine said: I will salvage your honey and you will pay me the value of my wine, the owner of the honey is obligated to pay him compensation for the wine.

Here, the person who owns the wine sacrifices their wine in order to help the other person save their honey. The Mishna makes it clear that the person who gave up their wine deserves compensation. If they make a clarification that they’re only doing this on the condition that they will be compensated for the wine – the owner of the honey pays them what the wine would cost (because they’re still making out better than they would have had the person not acted and they lost all their honey). However, if they don’t clarify, they are STILL compensated for their help, just not as much as the cost of the wine.

Today, the daf wonders about someone who, in the heat of the moment says, “Whatever you want I will pay you, just help me!” And then, when their item is safe says, “I was just kidding.”

The mishna teaches that if the owner of the wine said to the owner of the honey: I will salvage your honey and you will pay me the value of my wine, the owner of the honey is obligated to give him compensation for the wine. The Gemara asks: Why is the stipulation binding? Let the owner of the honey say to him: I was merely fooling with you when I accepted your condition, and I did not agree to it at all.

What a jerk! Sure, now that the work is done you were just “fooling.” The daf then gives as interesting analogy. It’s a little hard to follow but I will paste Maimonides’s code of law after that summarizes it (so you can skip this next paragraph and then tune back in).

Isn’t it taught in a baraita: In a case where one was fleeing from prison and there was a ferry before him, and he said to the ferryman: Take this entire dinar and take me across the river, the ferryman has the right to collect only his usual wage, but not the entire dinar. Apparently, the prisoner could have said to him: I was merely fooling with you and never intended to pay you a full dinar. Here also, let the owner of the honey say to the owner of the wine: I was merely fooling with you. The Gemara answers: This case in the mishna is not comparable to the case cited above; rather, it is comparable to the latter clause of that same baraita, which states: And if he said to the ferryman: Take this dinar as your wage and take me across the river, the prisoner must give him his wage in the full amount, i.e., the entire dinar. What is different in the first clause, which states that the ferryman receives only his regular wage, and what is different in the latter clause, which states that he receives the full dinar? Rami bar Ḥama said: The latter clause deals with a trapper who scoops fish from the sea, i.e., a fisherman, and he can say to the prisoner: You have caused me a loss of fish [kavrei] worth a dinar, which I would have caught had I not taken you across the river. Similarly, in the case in the mishna, the owner of the wine sustains a financial loss in order to save the honey, and therefore he is entitled to the compensation that the owner of the honey agreed to pay.

Here is how Maimonides puts it is his Mishneh Torah, Robbery and Lost Property 12:7

Similar rules apply if a person was fleeing from prison and there was a raft near him. If he told the owner of the raft: “Take me across the river and I will pay you a dinar,” and the raft owner takes him across the river, the fugitive is required to pay the raft owner only the wage he is fit to be paid.
If the raft owner was a fisherman, and the fugitive told him, “Stop fishing and take me across the river,” the fugitive must pay him whatever he stipulates. The same principles apply in all analogous situations.

The point? There is no “fooling” and also, no price gouging. If it’s your job to do something, you can’t charge someone more just because you see they’re in a desperate situation. However, if you negotiate a price with someone to do something you wouldn’t do otherwise, where you have some sort of financial loss by helping them – then you can charge whatever you want.

Are we liable when we purchase stolen goods? What if we don’t know? In todays daf, a purchaser buys goods from a man named “Ḥanan the Wicked.” Can they really claim they didn’t know it was stolen? Let’s see:

Rava says: If he is a well-known thief, the Sages did not implement the provision ensuring the integrity of the marketplace in this case. The purchaser should have been aware that the item may be stolen and should not have purchased it. The Gemara asks: But wasn’t Ḥanan the Wicked well known, and yet, according to Rav Huna, the Sages implemented the provision ensuring the integrity of the marketplace in this case? The Gemara answers: Although he was well known for villainy, he was not well known for theft.

Wow! Love this. Just because he is known for villainy, doesn’t mean he would sell stolen goods!

What I appreciate is the idea that someone who is “bad” in one area is not assumed to be “bad” in other areas. We are more than our faults and they don’t (necessarily) bleed from one arena to another.

And the name… oh do I want to know the story behind that name!

Our daf is discussing if/when/how to return stolen items. On our daf, the question is cemeteries on if we are sold a stolen item. If we need to return it depends in parton if the owner has despaired of ever having the item returned to them.

Ulla says: The dispute is only with regard to an unspecified case, where it is unknown whether or not the owners despaired, but where it is known that the owners despaired, all agree that their despair effects legal acquisition. By contrast, Rabba says: Even in cases where it is known that the owners despaired, there is also a dispute, because although the owner may have expressed despair verbally, he may still hope to retrieve the item.

This rings so true for me. Do we ever really give up hope? We may have moments of despair, but that doesn’t mean we don’t still want what is ours.

I can’t help but read this and think of Israel. Our homeland. We were subjected, ejected and more for 2000 years. We despaired but never gave up hope.