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

Menachot 108

Today’s lesson is to listen . . . even to people you disagree with.

The Gemara answers: Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi disagrees with this entire matter, both in the first and latter clauses of the mishna; but he waited until the Rabbis had completed their statement, and then disagreed with them with regard to both cases.

How rare is it to hear someone out nowadays? To really listen?

The gem is clear: listen before you disagree. Our world would be better if we all could at least try to really hear what others are saying.

Menachot 107

Today’s gem is to learn the local lingo!

The mishna teaches that if one vows to bring a burnt offering and does not specify which animal he will bring, according to the first tanna he must bring a lamb, and according to Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya he may bring a dove or a pigeon. The Gemara explains: And they do not disagree in principle. This Sage rules in accordance with the custom of his locale, and that Sage rules in accordance with the custom of his locale. In the locale of the first tanna, when people would say: Burnt offering, they would be referring to a land animal, whereas in the locale of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, when people would say: Burnt offering, they would also be referring to a bird.

There are plenty of words used to refer to the same thing, for example: In the midwest, we call it pop, in Atlanta it’s Coke, and in Miami it’s soda – no matter where you are, it’s a fizzy drink.

On our daf, it’s talking about how the SAME word can refer to something different depending on location. For example: football. In the States, it means American football where people use their hands. In the rest of the world “football” means soccer.

In the US, chips are thinly slices often fried (or baked) potato (or tortilla) slices. In the UK, chips are what we would call french fries.

The lesson? Learn the local jargon, or you might really get yourself in a pickle. 😉

(Let’s get some chips and watch football.)

Menachot 106

We have a wonderful new Mishnah on today’s daf.

MISHNA: One who says: It is incumbent upon me to donate pieces of wood as fuel for the altar, must donate no fewer than two logs. One who says: It is incumbent upon me to bring frankincense, must bring no less than a handful. The mishna states tangentially: There are five halakhot pertaining to handfuls. One who says: It is incumbent upon me to bring an offering of frankincense, may not bring less than a handful. One who pledges to bring a meal offering must bring with it a handful of frankincense. One who intentionally offers up a handful of a meal offering outside the Temple courtyard is liable to receive excision from the World-to-Come [karet]. The two bowls of frankincense that accompany the shewbread are required to have two handfuls of frankincense. One who says: It is incumbent upon me to donate gold to the Temple treasury, must give no less than a gold dinar. One who says: It is incumbent upon me to donate silver to the Temple treasury, must give no less than the value of a silver dinar. One who says: It is incumbent upon me to donate copper to the Temple maintenance, must give no less than the value of a silver ma’a. One who says: I specified the amount of gold, silver, or copper, but I do not know what I specified, must bring the maximum amount of gold, silver, or copper, until it reaches an amount where he says: I am certain that I did not intend to donate that much.

What I love about this is that while you have to give the minimum in all cases – when it comes to donating to tzedakah (as these donations would go towards Temple service which include tzedakah), you never want to give the minimum! Instead, you want to give the most you can without sacrificing more than you can handle.

Again, I want to put out there that tithing is a beautiful thing. Not all we have is ours, some belongs to others, the community, and those in need. If you don’t know where to give, follow the daf and give it to (representatives of) your Higher Power.

Menachot 105

Today’s daf asks: what do we do when we’re not sure what we meant, what we promised, or even what we owe?

The Gemara gives case after case:

Someone who pledged an unclear number of tenths. What should they do? Bring the maximum.
Someone unsure which type of meal offering they pledged. What should they do? Bring all five.
Someone who used ambiguous language when making a pledge. What should they do? Analyze every possible intention.

And then here comes the gem. If one says: I specified an offering but I do not know which I specified, he must bring . . .

In other words: uncertainty does not exempt you. We should imply htis lesson to our lives. Clarity is ideal, but when we don’t have it, the answer isn’t less commitment, it’s more. Uncertainty is not a loophole, it’s an invitation to generosity.

Menachot 104

Today’s daf begins and ends with people who are experiencing poverty.

It begins with Rabbi Beivai being asked a question, and when Rabbi Beivai does not answer, he explains that, when you have no money, it’s hard to even think.

Rabbi Beivai was silent and did not answer. Rabbi Zerika said to him: What is the reason that the Master does not respond to the question? Rabbi Beivai said to him: How can I respond to him? My circumstances can be described as Rabbi Ḥanin said in interpreting the verse: “And your life shall hang in doubt before you; and you shall fear night and day, and you shall have no assurance of your life” (Deuteronomy 28:66). “And your life shall hang in doubt before you”; this is referring to one who purchases grain from one year for the next, because he is not certain that he will find grain to eat in the next year. “And you shall fear night and day”; this is referring to one who purchases grain from one Shabbat eve to another because he does not have the resources to provide for himself further. “And you shall have no assurance of your life”; this is referring to one who relies on the baker [hapalter] to give him bread because he has no grain of his own. Rabbi Beivai concludes: And that man, i.e., I, relies on a baker. Therefore, my mind is not sufficiently settled to answer the question properly.

And the daf ends with poverty, explaining why the meal offering, the cheapest of the offerings, is different than any other:

Rabbi Yitzḥak says: For what reason is the meal offering different from other offerings in that the term “an individual [nefesh]” is stated with regard to it? The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: Whose practice is it to bring a meal offering? It is that of a poor individual; and I will ascribe him credit as if he offered up his soul [nafsho] in front of Me.

Poverty can take away clarity, stability, even the ability to think. And yet, when a person still shows up and brings what little they have, God says: it’s as if they offered their very soul.

When you have nothing, show up.

Menachot 103

Is this a lesson in grain? Or a lesson in humility?

If he says: It is incumbent upon me to bring sixty-one tenths of an ephah, he brings sixty tenths in one vessel and one tenth in another vessel, as the greatest number of tenths of an ephah that the community brings as meal offerings in one day is on the first festival day of Sukkot when it occurs on Shabbat, when sixty-one tenths of an ephah of fine flour are brought. It is sufficient for an individual that the maximum amount he can bring at once is one tenth of an ephah less than that of the community.

The daf sets an unexpected boundary today. Even if an individual wants to bring an enormous offering, one that’s equal to what the entire community brings on its busiest day (the Shabbat of Sukkot), they aren’t allowed present it all at once. They have to divide it.

Why? Because an individual is not the community and no matter how much one person gives, they don’t get to take up the space of everyone else.

It’s all about humility. Generosity matters. Showing up matters. But so does making room.

The gem: You’re not meant to do it all alone, even if you can. Make space for others.

Menachot 102

Today’s daf introduces one of the most relatable korbanot: the asham taluy—the guilt offering you bring when you’re not even sure you did anything wrong. It’s the “just in case” apology. The “sorry if I offended you.” The preemptive guilt.

It’s giving me very Canadian energy.

The Gemara discusses a case where someone sets aside an asham taluy—but before bringing it, they find out definitively: they didn’t sin. So now what?

Three opinions: 1) Rabbi Meir says: great, then nothing happened. Put the animal back. 2) The Rabbis say: it’s already designated—let it wait and be dealt with properly. 3) But Rabbi Eliezer says something kinda wild: Bring it anyway.

I love that. The daf recognizes a very human feeling: the sense that maybe, somewhere along the way, we messed up and instead of ignoring that feeling (or letting it consume us) it creates a ritual for it.

Not every mistake is clear. Not every responsibility is obvious. But better to take responsibility than not.

Maybe those Canadians are right and we should all say sorry even when we’re not quite sure we have to.

Menachot 101

You need a little background to understand what’s happening on the daf. I foudn this from Adin Steinsaltz to be helpful. “When someone donates an animal to the Temple as a sacrifice, it immediately becomes fully sanctified and cannot be redeemed, that is, it cannot be exchanged for money and used for mundane purposes, since it must be brought on the altar. If, however, it developed a blemish that will not allow it to be sacrificed, the Torah permits it to be redeemed, and another animal must be purchased as a replacement (see Vayikra 27:11-12).”

What struck me reading the daf was that there is one other exception where redemption is allowed. The Gemara teaches, Granted, with regard to the red heifer, it is considered to be an item that stands to be redeemed, since if he found another animal choicer than it, there is a mitzva to redeem the first one and purchase the choicer one with the money.

That red heifer could be slaughtered and on the pyre – but if a more beautiful one is found, then it can STILL be redeemed (i.e. replaced).

There is something so powerful about this. That even when in the fire, redemption is still possible.

The gem: never give up on trying to redeem yourself. Never stop believing that you can improve.

Menachot 100

We know how people can influence each other in the wrong direction through what we normalize, what we excuse, what we model. It doesn’t take much to pull someone slightly off course, and over time, that drift can lead somewhere harmful.

But that’s not how God works. God doesn’t lure us toward harm. God lures us away from it. Not with threats. Not with force. But with a kind of steady pull—an invitation back toward life.

As we see on today’s daf:

Come and see that the attribute of flesh and blood is unlike the attribute of the Holy One, Blessed be He. The attribute of flesh and blood is that a person allures another from the paths of life to the paths of death, but the Holy One, Blessed be He, allures the person from the paths of death to the paths of life, as it is stated: “And also He has allured you out of a narrow opening,” i.e., from Gehenna, the opening of which is narrow so that its smoke is collected within it.

Many of us carry an image of religion rooted in fear: do the wrong thing and something bad will happen. But this passage offers a different picture. Even when a person is heading toward what the text imagines as Gehinnom—toward the consequences of their choices—God is still trying to draw them back.

Our job is about responding to that pull.. . . The challenge is that there are so many other voices pulling at us all the time.

Today’s gem is to learn how to notice which way we’re being pulled—and to choose, again and again, the path that leads to life.

Oh, and this doesn’t just apply to us – but to Kings as well:

And lest you say: Just as the opening of Gehenna is narrow, so too, all of Gehenna is narrow, the verse states: “For Gehenna has been arranged of old, it has been prepared even for the king, deep and large, its pile is fire and much wood, the breath of the Lord kindles it like a stream of brimstone” (Isaiah 30:33). And lest you say that Gehenna is prepared only for ordinary people, but it is not prepared for important individuals such as a king, the verse states: “It has been prepared even for the king.” And lest you say there is no wood in Gehenna, the verse states: “Its pile is fire and much wood.” And lest you say that this, i.e., escaping Gehenna, is the only reward for Torah study, the verse states: “And that which is set on your table is full of fatness” (Job 36:16). This indicates that one who obeys God and turns from the paths of death to the paths of life is not only saved from Gehenna, he also attains tranquility and prosperity.

Menachot 99

Two gorgeous gems on the daf. I’ll try to keep it short.

Gem #1 – We treat people, even broken ones, as holy vessels: The verse states: “At that time the Lord said to me: Hew for yourself two tablets of stone like the first…And I will write on the tablets the words that were on the first tablets, which you broke, and you shall put them in the Ark” (Deuteronomy 10:1–2). Rav Yosef teaches a baraita: This verse teaches that both the tablets of the Covenant and the pieces of the broken tablets are placed in the Ark. One should learn from here that with regard to a Torah scholar who has forgotten his Torah knowledge due to circumstances beyond his control, e.g., illness, one may not behave toward him in a degrading manner. Although the first tablets were broken it is prohibited to treat them with disrespect, due to their sanctity. A Torah scholar who forgot the Torah knowledge he once possessed is likened to these broken tablets.

Gem #2 – Learning must be freely chosen, yet never optional. The tanna of the school of Rabbi Yishmael teaches: The words of Torah should not be considered as an obligation upon you, i.e., one should not treat Torah study as a burden, but at the same time you are not permitted to exempt yourself from them.