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

Ever just “tap” someone else’s car in the parking lot of a grocery store? Get out to see if there is damage and see that it’s possible a tiny scratch is your fault but no one would really notice it. Or, yes, you chipped the paint, but the rest of the car looks pretty bad so they won’t likely notice. Now, do you leave a note? Does anyone need to know?

Our daf talks about intentional and unintentional to another persons property by mixing items that cause damage that is hard to see and that the owner would not notice unless told.

The mishna teaches: If one unintentionally committed one of these offenses, either rendering another’s food impure, mixing teruma with another’s produce, or pouring another’s wine before an idol, he is exempt from paying for the damage. If he acted intentionally, he is liable to pay. Ḥizkiyya says: By Torah law, one who commits one of the offenses listed in the mishna, whether he did so unintentionally or intentionally, is liable to pay for the damage he caused, like any other person who causes damage. What is the reason for this? The reason is that even damage that is not evident is categorized as damage. One is liable for damage not only when the damage is evident, i.e., when he causes a change in the item’s physical state, but also when the damage is not evident, i.e., when he causes a reduction in the item’s value due to a change in its halakhic status, e.g., when he renders it impure. And what is the reason that the Sages said that if he committed one of these acts unintentionally he is exempt? – meaning why do the sages disagree? – This is so that the one who caused the damage will inform the injured party about what happened. If a fine were imposed even in a case where the damage is caused unintentionally, there would be a concern that the guilty party might not report the damage so as to avoid the penalty. In such a situation the injured party will not know what happened, as the damage is not evident, and he will inadvertently use that which has become impure, mixed with teruma, or poured before an idol.

According to a quick internet search, “Hitting a parked car is not a crime, but leaving the scene of an accident is against the law in every state. Hitting a parked car is considered an accident. The right thing to do is to notify the owner of what you have done.” But, if we think the owner is going to make us pay for a whole new bumper instead of a little touch up paint, it might still dissuade us from doing the right thing. Our rabbis saw this and that’s why they didn’t want to penalize someone who did something accidentally that the owner wouldn’t notice by making them pay.

Now I think about dropping someone’s toothbrush into the toilet. They would never know. If you tell them, they might make you buy them a new one. But if you don’t tell, they will never know, but now they have put something that’s been in the toilet into their mouths. For the betterment of the world, you should tell them and they should just be grateful that you didn’t let them put that toilet toothbrush into their mouths.

Today’s gem is a weird story where Rabbi Meir battles with ignoring a heavenly voice that wants to punish orphans . . .

It is related that there was a certain steward who was in Rabbi Meir’s neighborhood who was selling land belonging to the orphans and purchasing slaves with the proceeds, and Rabbi Meir did not allow him to do this, as the practice is contrary to halakha. They showed him in his dream the words: I wish to destroy and you build? He understood this as a sign that God wanted the orphans to suffer financial collapse, and therefore it would be preferable to allow the steward to continue his practice. Even so, Rabbi Meir paid no heed to his dream, and said: Words appearing in dreams do not bring up and do not take down; they should not be taken into consideration.

Awesome. Even if God wants it, I won’t let others take advantage of orphans. This is why the law is there – to protect you from people who wish you harm and from people who think they know what God wants . . .

Apropos an incident involving Rabbi Meir, the Gemara relates another story about him: There were two people who, incited by Satan, would argue with each other every Friday afternoon at twilight. Rabbi Meir happened to come to the place where they argued. He stopped them from fighting three Friday afternoons at twilight, until finally he made peace between them. He then heard Satan say: Woe, that Rabbi Meir removed that man, Satan, from his house. This indicates that Satan himself lives among those who have discord.

Look at Rabi Meir thwarting Satan!

One last sweet pasage:

It is related that there was a certain steward of orphans who was in the neighborhood of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi who was selling land and buying oxen on behalf of the orphans, and he did not say anything to the steward to the effect that he was acting improperly. The Gemara explains that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi holds in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yosei, as it is taught in a baraita that Rabbi Yosei said: In all my days, I did not call my wife: My wife, nor my ox: My ox. Rather, I called my wife: My home, because she is the essence of my home, and I called my ox: My field, because the primary force behind enhancements to the field is the ox that plows it.

I like that. When we find our person they do feel like home. (I don’t know about having an ox . . . )

Last summer we were at a water park waiting to pay to get in and my husband found a wad of $20s on the ground. He immediately yelled, “Did someone drop some cash?” While many looked and said no, one guy said it “might” be his. My husband asked him how much he lost, the guy said he wasn’t sure. Then he said maybe it wasn’t his but he thinks it’s his. Then when my husband gave it to him, he offered to split it with my husband (which he refused). that’s when I think we were all pretty sure that the money never belonged to that guy in the first place. I imagine that some teenager would go through their things later and realize that they dropped all their cash and be devastated. When it comes to lost things, it’s hard to know when people are being honest.

And it was further instituted that one who finds a lost item and returns it to its rightful owner is not required to take an oath that he did not keep any part of the lost item for himself. This ordinance was also instituted for the betterment of the world. Rabbi Yitzḥak says: If the owner of the lost item brings a claim against the finder, saying: You found two money pouches tied together that belong to me, and the other person says: I found only one pouch, then the finder takes an oath, similar to anyone who admits to part of a claim. If the owner claims: You found two oxen tied together that belong to me, and the other person says: There was only one ox, the finder is not required to take an oath.The Gemara explains: What is the reason for the difference between the two cases? It is that oxen become detached from each other. Consequently, it is possible that when the oxen were lost, there had been two that were tied together, but afterward they became separated and the finder found only one. By contrast, pouches do not become detached from each other. Since the finder admits that he found one of them, it stands to reason that he actually found both of them.

What do we do when someone returns a wallet but all the cash is gone? Do we assume they took it? Isn’t it also possible someone else found the wallet first, took the cash and then tossed it and a second person later found the same wallet and did the right thing by returning it? The accusation is like the expression: no good deed goes unpunished. But it’s also likely that the same person who found it took the cash. This is why the rest of the daf debates if we should make the finder swear they didn’t take any part of it or not. The argument to make them swear is compared to those who owe money to a creditor. The argument they shouldn’t is really based on the idea that if you penalize people for finding things you will discourage them from turning their findings in.

Returning lost items is a Torah law based on Deuteronomy 22:1-3, “If you see your fellow Israelite’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it; you must take it back to your peer. If your fellow Israelite does not live near you or you do not know who [the owner] is, you shall bring it home and it shall remain with you until your peer claims it; then you shall give it back. You shall do the same with that person’s ass; you shall do the same with that person’s garment; and so too shall you do with anything that your fellow Israelite loses and you find: you must not remain indifferent.”

I love that ending, “You must not remain indifferent.” Things may get sticky with lost and found. We may not want to get involved or think that lost item is not worth much (a study in Science found that the more money in a lost wallet, the higher the rate of return) but that stuffed animal might mean a lot to its owner. Don’t be indifferent. Try to return it.

(Just maybe not to some guy who is unsure if it’s his, but thinks it’s his, but then wants to split it with you.)

When it comes to orphans, if there is a debt owed by their father who has died, you only collect from the worst property that they have. Our daf clarifies that “the orphans of which the Sages spoke, is referring to adults, and needless to say it also applies to minors.

Why?

This is because even an adult son is considered like a minor with regard to matters that have to do with their parents.

Love this little gem. While the immediate application has to do with finances, I think a lot of us have this dynamic that, even though we are grown and maybe even have friends our parents ages – when it comes to dealing with our parents, we are still like the kids we once were. It’s called family systems theory and it can be hard to break that cycle – especially if no one is willing to speak about it openly and honestly. It’s also why most people don’t want to spend more than three days visiting their parents after they leave for college and why they say “you can never go home again” – you have changed and what was no longer feels like home.

But when we lose a parent? We still are orphans in many ways, even as adults.

Predatory loans seemed to have happened way before the burst of the housing bubble back in 2008/2009. On today’s daf, we find the rabbis trying to find the balance between wanting lenders to be willing to loan money but wanting to protect borrowers from those who might be trying to rope them into loans they don’t need or won’t be able to pay off.

The baraita continues: For what reason did the Sages say that a creditor collects his debt from intermediate-quality land? It is so that a person should not see another’s fine field or fine house and say: I will jump in and lend him money so that later I will collect the field or house for my debt, if the borrower does not have enough money to repay the loan. Therefore, the Sages said that a creditor collects his debt only from intermediate-quality land, and he would not receive that fine field that would have prompted him to extend the loan in the first place. The Gemara asks: If it is so that the objective is that people not be tempted to lend money for the purpose of acquiring the borrower’s property should he default on the loan, then the halakha governing a creditor should be to collect his debt from inferior-quality land. The Gemara answers: If so, then you would be locking the door before potential borrowers, as no one would be willing to lend them money.

It is a balance as loans should be beneficial to both parties. But it’s clearly a balance that societies have been struggling to find for thousands of years. What’s important is that there are laws there to protect both parties and that someone is looking out for the best interest of the borrower.

Today’s gem just made me remember an old Jewish story:

And it was further instituted that one who finds a lost item and returns it to its rightful owner is not required to take an oath that he did not keep any part of the lost item for himself. This ordinance was also instituted for the betterment of the world.

I remember this old Jewish story about a man who finds a chicken and searches, but cannot find the owner. Now, he knows the chicken is not his, but takes care of the chicken that begins to lay eggs. He knows he cannot benefit from the eggs so he sells them planning to give the money to the owner when he discovers who they are. This continues of course with the chicken hatching chickens and making even more eggs and the man purchasing other animals with the money and making more and more money in the process and growing the flock and the farm. By the time the owner of the chicken is discovered the man who had been watching her wants to give him land, a farm, animals, dozens of chickens, eggs, milk, wool and more.

Now, the story ended with the original owner of the chicken refusing to take all the property and goods (besides the original chicken) as the man had been the person to do all the work. But I am not sure that this ending accords with Jewish law. But perhaps that’s why our daf says we are not going to make the finder of a lost item take an oath that they did not benefit or keep any part of the lost item. . . because the world is a better kinder place with much better stories when we are not so strict.

A crazy story on our daf today! (Well maybe not as crazy as Rabbi Ilish escaping capture because a man could talk to birds on page 45, but still pretty far fetched.)

The Gemara recounts a related incident: Reish Lakish sold himself to gladiators. He took a bag and a round stone inside of it with him. He said: There is a tradition that on the final day of a captive’s life, before his captors kill him, they do for him anything that he requests of them, so that he would forgive them for the spilling of his blood. On the final day before they were set to kill him they said to him: What is amenable to you? He said to them: I want to tie you up and have you sit, and I will strike each one of you one and a half times. He tied them up and had each one of them sit. When he struck each of them with one strike with the stone in the bag, the one whom he struck died, because Reish Lakish was of great strength. Reish Lakish gritted his teeth in anger, and said to the one whom he killed, in order to prevent the others from realizing what was happening: Are you laughing at me? You still have half of a strike remaining with me, as I struck you only once. He killed them all, and Reish Lakish escaped his captors. He left and came back home, and after some time had passed he was sitting, eating, and drinking, without concern for his livelihood. His daughter said to him: You don’t want something to lie upon? He said to her: My daughter, my belly is my pillow, and this is enough for me. When he died he left only a kav of saffron as an inheritance, and even so he recited this verse about himself: “And they leave their wealth for others” (Psalms 49:11), meaning that he was pained that he did not use all of his property.

What? So much to unpack. It seems like Reish Lakish might be living a bit above his means, otherwise, why would he have to sell himself to gladiators? But he was so big and strong, how could they resist acquiring him? He uses his strength and knowledge of this group of people to kill them all and walk away unscathed and apparently unbothered by what he just did. This leads the Tosafot on Gittin 47a:4:1 to say, “Resh Lakish sold himself – This story must have taken place before he did Teshuva, otherwise he wouldn’t have treated himself in such a way.” Treated himself? And what about how he treats others? The gladiators – maybe this is a fun revenge fantasy kind of thing – but his daughter for whom he left nothing? I don’t know that there is a good message here. Steinsaltz tries to give him one by saying , “He exhibited his confidence that God would provide his needs by not saving money for the future.” But I will do my best to save . . .

How far do we have to go to help someone? How many times does someone deserve to be saved? On today’s daf the Mishnah teaches:

MISHNA: With regard to one who sells himself and his children as slaves to gentiles, he is not redeemed, but the children are redeemed after their father’s death, as there is no reason to penalize them.

The Gemara then clarifies that: GEMARA: Rav Asi says: And this halakha, that he is not redeemed, applies only when he sold himself for a first time and was redeemed, and repeated his action by selling himself a second time and was redeemed, and repeated his action by selling himself a third time. Since he sold himself repeatedly, the Sages penalized him by instituting that he may not be redeemed.

So, this person sold themselves into slavery on two other occasions without asking his community for help, therefore on the third occasion it says you do not redeem them. This is, or course, a particular ruling about redemption, but it also can inform us on how many times we need to forgive and when it’s time to but off a relationship because of harmful patterns.

I remember when my eldest son was in 3rd grade he had a classmate who was constantly misbehaving (while he was a total straight arrow). One day, this classmate got rewarded for a week of good behavior with pizza and a movie at lunch time. He may have learned that behaving has its own rewards – but my son learned that he should misbehave because those are the kids who get celebrated for when they (rarely) to the right thing.

Often good ideas have bad, unintended, consequences. In the Talmud, there have been a series of changed made “״מִפְּנֵי תִּיקּוּן הָעוֹלָם״ for the betterment of the world. The changes have been to the laws, laws which should be followed but are modified because of unintended consequences. Today we get more of those and the gem is about paying ransoms to redeem captives – a clear mitzvah in Judaism.

MISHNA: The captives are not redeemed for more than their actual monetary value, for the betterment of the world; and one may not aid the captives in their attempt to escape from their captors for the betterment of the world, so that kidnappers will not be more restrictive with their captives to prevent them from escaping. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says: For the betterment of the captives, so that kidnappers will not avenge the escape of the captives by treating other captives with cruelty.

The Gemara asks a good question, What does it mean that this is for the betterment of the world?

״מִפְּנֵי תִּיקּוּן הָעוֹלָם״ GEMARA:A dilemma was raised before the Sages: With regard to this expression: For the betterment of the world, is it due to the financial pressure of the community? Is the concern that the increase in price will lead to the community assuming financial pressures it will not be able to manage? Or perhaps it is because the result of this will be that they will not seize and bring additional captives, as they will see that it is not worthwhile for them to take Jews captive?

Lots to discuss here. The Talmud seems to be saying that it is not good to impoverish an entire community in order to save a few people. AND that if we do this, we will set a bad precedent as then captors will expect more money and not allow captives to be redeemed for smaller amounts. The issue is that overall more people may suffer if you pay a high ransom as 1) more money is collected from more people and 2) it will be possible to redeem less people. We learn a few things, one being that ecomics is a legitimate thing to consider, even when there is a life at stake, and that even the most noble of acts can have unintended consequences that may hurt more people down the road and even make society less just.

That being said, if it’s your kid/wife/loved-one then it’s hard to imagine feeling anything but getting them back is just. As we read:

The Gemara suggests: Come and hear that Levi bar Darga redeemed his daughter who was taken captive with thirteen thousand gold dinars.

Abaye said: And who told us that he acted in accordance with the wishes of the Sages? Perhaps he acted against the wishes of the Sages.

I hear you Levi bar Darga.

We often think of the responsibilities that parents have towards children, but talk less often about the responsibilities children have towards their parents. Modern society tends to think that anything we do for the younger generation is an obligation and anything we do for the older is “nice” and going above and beyond. Judaism is not set up that way. We are commanded to honor our mother and father, and Jewish law outlines what that means. In Judaism, we are responsible for our parents, but does our responsibility continue after death? Yes, when it comes to burial and saying kaddish – but what about their debts? Do we have to pay them? That’s the subject of today’s gem which falls within a conversation about how, if a person who lives in Israel sold their slave to someone who lives outside of Israel – they have to emancipate the slave because you cannot profit off of someone leaving the Holy Land and you can’t force someone to either. You also cannot sell your slave to a gentile because now your slave won’t get to keep Shabbat and the festivals and other mitzvot. If you do, you have to pay a fine and redeem them. Within this conversation we read:

Rabbi Yirmeya raised a dilemma before Rabbi Asi: If one sold his slave to a gentile and died, what is the halakha: Is his son penalized after him? Is the son also required to redeem the slave, or does the penalty apply only to the seller? . . . And Rabbi Yosei, son of Rabbi Ḥanina, says: We have a tradition that if one improved his field in a forbidden manner, and then died, his son may sow it. Apparently, we should infer that the general principle with regard to penalties is that the Sages applied the penalty to the one who committed the transgression himself, but the Sages did not penalize his son. And later we read again . . . The Sages applied the penalty only to the one who caused the damage himself, but the Sages did not apply the penalty to his son.

So, what do we learn? That we are not responsible for the sins of our parents.

I can’t help but think of how important this is. If we can believe this, then we can be honest about our history. Americans can be honest about ancestors who owned slaves and racist pasts because they/we are not responsible. Poles could admit that their parents and grandparents turned their Jewish neighbors in to the Nazis and participated in the effort to rid Europe of Jews instead of making it a crime to speak the truth. We could recognize the many wrongs of the past without having to apologize or whitewash. We could be honest and therefore honor the victims.