Talmudic BDS: Boycott Dove Sacrifices and More Bava Basra 164-166

164

Personal Bias and Self-Awareness

Our Gemara on Amud aleph discusses various circumstances where a parchment that was erased can be reused without being vulnerable to forgery. Ordinarily, with the technology of Talmudic times, one couldn’t inkwash the contract and remove or add clauses without the discoloration being noticeable, thus signifying potential forgery. But, if the entire parchment was written on erased material, the Gemara says it would be a valid contract since it is apparent that the entire document was redone, with new witnesses and signatures. We only suspect alteration when one part of the document appears erased and the other appears original. 

The Gemara objects: Since the material already has signs of erasure, a forger could erase and alter a specific section and the smudges wouldn’t stand out, since the parchment already has signs of erasure all over. To this concern the Gemara counters:

Paper that has been erased once is not similar in appearance to paper that has been erased twice. It will be seen that the signatures are on a place that had been erased once and that the text is written on a place that had been erased twice, and the forgery will be noticed. 

We may borrow from the approach of the Noam Elimelech (Shemos Bo 15) that we saw in blog post psychology of daf 154, whereby a legal discussion of obligation and litigation was seen as a metaphor for the human encounter with divine judgment. Here too we can reflect on the metaphor of this recycled contract.

The human process of memory, intellect and personality are sometimes compared metaphorically to a written record. For example, in English one might say, “It’s time to turn the page and write a new chapter,” meaning to change direction and experiences in life. In Hebrew, Mishna Avos (4:20) refers to what is learned in youth as writing on fresh parchment while what is learned later, as one ages, as writing on old, erased parchment.

The difficulty of retaining new information and learning new ideas and attitudes that comes as one ages is a result of having already so many preconceived notions that organize and bias thinking. Of course this is necessary as acquired wisdom must become integrated, and we essentially run on autopilot or our minds would be overtaxed trying to figure out everything each time. Imagine every day in your car like it was the first time that you were behind the wheel, or imagine trying to read phonetically instead of sight reading. This is the blessing and curse of the way the human mind must function. And, just as sight reading leads to foolish copy errors and misspelling because the words were not fully sounded out but also makes for efficient reading, so too we have prejudices and beliefs that interfere with mindful awareness of new data and ideas but allow us to function expediently. 

The challenge in life is to find balance between trying to see matters fresh and objectively without over thinking and obsessing over every detail. We must generally follow our instincts and automatic responses while still monitoring and discerning potential blindspots. In a religious sense, we cannot review and decide on our beliefs every day before we pray as that might take hours, yet to never stop and contemplate is robotic. Confusing? Perhaps. However, there is an easy way to discern what might be worth re-evaluating. A good signal is when something doesn’t work. There is an urge to quell anxiety by doubling down on our internal narrative, and avoid the possibility that we may have to admit failure, reassess and change. Yet, the fact that something isn’t working is our most important feedback and the right time to contemplate. When we have personal and relational challenges, sometimes we must strengthen our resolve and stick with our plan and core values. But if we meet with consistent failures, we ought to reconsider our basic assumptions.

If we stay true to the metaphor, we can find more insight from additional questions and analysis from our Gemara:

The Gemara suggests: But let the court bring another parchment, write something on it and erase it, and then compare this single erasure with the erasure on the document in question. If the document were erased twice, a contrast would be seen between a single erasure and a double erasure. 

The Gemara answers: The erasure of this parchment is not necessarily similar to the erasure of that parchment. A single erasure on one parchment might resemble a double erasure on a different parchment. 

The Gemara continues to suggest: But let us accept, i.e., verify, the signatures of the witnesses on the document in court, after which they may safely be erased; and then erase the signatures and compare that erasure to the erasure of the document text, to see if it was erased once or twice. In response to this question 

Rav Hoshaya says: That which is erased on the same day that it was written is not necessarily similar to that which was erased two days ago, i.e., more than a day after it was written. An older erasure looks different from a new one, so the comparison might not show that there was a double erasure in the document. 

The Gemara suggests: But let us retain the document for an extra day, at which point both erasures will be old and can be compared. Rabbi Yirmeya said in response: We are concerned for the possibility of an erring court. If such complicated procedures were used in order to declare a document valid, there would be a chance that a particular court would not apply them properly, and that court would end up ratifying a document that was not valid.

Essentially, the Gemara considered additional way to prove that the contact was not improperly altered such as comparing one erasure of one document to another, and/or waiting for the new erasure to age a bit so that a more accurate one-to-one comparison of inks and paper can be conducted. The Gemara rejects a series of similar situations by arguing that no two parchments react to erasure in the same manner, and likewise in situations where aging might allow more accurate reading, we fear that leaving something unattended instead of passing an immediate ruling could cause the judges to lose track of details and issue an erroneous ruling.

The nimshal is that as we try to formulate opinions and assessments of our beliefs and practices we might want to use prior experiences to inform us. While this is potentially valid we must also be careful to not assume that “all parchment and inks are the same”, meaning not all circumstances can be fully compared. Furthermore we must always be concerned that “the court may make a mistake”, i.e. that our judgement is fallible.

165

Waiting for the Dust to Settle

Our Gemara on Amud aleph makes an observation about human nature and that certain sins are almost impossible to avoid:

The majority of people succumb to sin with regard to financial dishonesty and theft, and a minority of people succumb to sin with regard to sexual matters, and everyone succumbs to sin with regard to malicious speech. The Gemara asks: Can it enter your mind that all people sin with regard to malicious speech? The Gemara answers: Rather, Rav was referring to uttering that is close to (avak) of malicious speech.

The Hebrew word for “close to” is avak, and more appropriately translates as dust. It used to metaphorically convey a sin that is at least in spirit of a similar moral breach, though may not be technically as forbidden. For example, rabbinically prohibited usury is known as avak ribbis.

The Panim Yafos (Vayishlach) notes that Yaakov’s wrestling with Esau’s guardian angel was described as Vayeavek (Bereishis 32:25). This has the same linguistic root as avak dust, possibly because when people wrestle, dust flies, as in the English idiom, “to get dusted up.“  He says Satan did not have the ability to overcome Yaakov by causing him or his descendants to sin explicitly, however he was able to make inroads regarding practices that were dubious and morally questionable, but also possible to rationalize. That is why the Torah uses a word that hints at dust.

Reflecting on this, we might also consider the Noam Elimelech’s (Vayishlach 6) interpretation of this dust and the ultimate shining of the sun that happens at the end of the episode (ibid 32). Just as dust obscures, on some level Yaakov was undergoing confusion and a resulting lack of faith. The Midrash says that the dust of this battle rose up to the heavenly throne. The meaning is that his confusion affected Yaakov’s ability to connect to God, but he eventually emerged victorious from his struggle, which is represented by the sun shining in the morning. He eventually came to a place of moral clarity.

When something is clearly forbidden we still may have tests and challenges of character, but it is much harder to overcome temptation when we also feel a lack of clarity. If a sin is subtle, we are more likely to rationalize it. This could be another reason why certain sins are described as avak, because they come from a blurring and confusion and it takes time for the dust to settle and develop moral clarity. 

166

Talmudic BDS: Boycott Dove Sacrifices

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph describes a situation where Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel fought against a situation of price gouging. There was a shortage of sacrificial doves necessary for new mothers to bring as an offering to complete their purification process which led to a price spike. Fearing this would cause people despair and possibly to give up on the whole ritual, he enacted an emergency measure, allowing certain sacrifices to double up even though they ordinarily should be separate obligations. This is an example of many situations where the rabbis enacted consumer and marketplace protections. There is a fascinating responsa reflecting a more modern application of this idea.

The Shu”t Tzemach Tzedek (28) discusses a situation where there was price gouging on fish, targeted toward the Jews on Friday who have a custom of buying fish in honor of Shabbos. The question is, is it permitted to adopt a temporary community ban on fish, which in the short term would disrupt the custom and degrade the quality of Shabbos in the long-term interest of putting the merchants in their place, so that the price exploitation would discontinue. While the specificity of fish might be merely a custom, the Tzemach Tzedek was of the opinion that the overall concept of honoring Shabbos had the authority of a Biblical command. Therefore, he was concerned that for financial matters, it might be inappropriate to disrupt a Torah law. 

Another interesting wrinkle is that it also could become a de facto test of faith. The Talmud (Beitzah 15b) seems to promise that one should not need to budget or worry about expenses when it comes to honoring the Shabbos. It states:

My children, borrow on My account, and sanctify the sanctity of the day of Shabbos and the Festivals with wine, and trust in Me, and I will repay this debt. 

(By the way, this is the meaning of the lovely Shabbos Zemer, “Ulevu Alay Banay”, possibly authored by Shlomo ibn Gebirol.  In the song, Hashem is asking the Jews to borrow on his account and enjoy the delights of Shabbos.)

However, there is a different teaching which seems to contradict what it says in above. Shabbos (112a) says that one should even let his Shabbos be conducted as a weekday in order to avoid burdening others with providing charity. (In terms of quality of food, but obviously not to violate the Shabbos by working.) 

The Tzemach Tzedek answers this contradiction by making a distinction between somebody who has the funds versus somebody who does not. So long as one has the funds, money can be laid out. On the other hand, someone who does not have the money should do without, even if it means a simple meal, and not be a burden on others. He therefore says the function of this boycott would be to protect the impoverished consumers, who cannot afford the fish and should not borrow either, therefore there’s a legitimate argument for enacting a ban.

What about a situation where somebody does not have the money but has a way to borrow it? Some might say this was included in what the first Gemara stated, that God assures He will pay back any money borrowed on behalf of Shabbos. However, this is not definitely indicated because perhaps it only means a metaphoric loan. That is, God says, spend the money now even if ordinarily you wouldn’t spend it because you are worried that you’ll need it later, – and don’t worry, I will pay you back. But it still might be referring only to funds that a person has, as opposed to a person who does not have money at all. In that case, it might be wrong to borrow money, and instead the dictum of the second teaching should apply.

Tosafos (“Levu”, Beitzah ibid, especially according to the interpretation of Chochmas Shelomo ibid) takes a middle view. Somebody who does not have funds should not rely on this promise, and instead treat his Shabbos like a weekday if need be. However, somebody who has the assets, even if they aren’t liquid and even if it’s a stretch, should borrow the money and use the assets as a security because God promises he will find a way that the person will be able to pay back the loan without losing the assets. In other words, somebody who really based on their budget cannot actually afford it, but technically somehow could come up with the money still should appropriately assume that God will pay him back for the money he lays out to honor Shabbos. The second teaching about having a simple Shabbos with no extra food then a weekday meal is exclusively regarding a person who has no assets and is indigent.

A careful reading of the Tur (OC 242:1) and Kitzur (72:8) implies a stronger position than Tosafos. I believe they require most everyone to spend money on honoring the Shabbos, even to overextend somewhat if there’s no choice and to borrow money. The only exception that they seem to make is for someone who is “in an extremely oppressive situation.” They say, that person should economize and not spend money on Shabbos. 

In any case, while there might be some disagreement about the definition of “extremely oppressive”, there does seem to be an overall consensus that there is some limit. Someone who is in abject poverty is not supposed to borrow money nor take charity to spend extra money for Shabbos. The question is, philosophically and theologically why should it matter? If God is promising to pay back for expenses, and I think it’s fair to assume that God is not on a tight budget, why can you not just as easily take care of the person who is completely indigent? “Is the hand of God limited?“ (Bamidbar 11:23).

I believe the answer is that if a person is in such extreme poverty, for whatever reason, this is a unique situation and part of some specific divine decree, whether it is a test or punishment, this person is simply not meant to have money. Given that this is the case, it is not appropriate to borrow money or overextend to honor Shabbos. This reveals a fascinating idea about how providence is evaluated from a Jewish philosophical perspective. It seems that there are times where even if generally one should expect support and provision from God, there could be particular reasons why it’s not an auspicious time to succeed. Judaism often offers common sense and practical approaches. One must work hard, have faith, and sometimes even extend himself for a valued principal, like honoring the Shabbos. At the same time, obviously destructive or foolish measures based on the person’s track record and general status, should be avoided, although this might be determined differently by different halachic authorities.