Daf 5b-6a - Taking Stock of Inventory
Ein Yaakov
- The World of Talmudic Aggada
By Dr.
Moshe Simon-Shoshan
Lecture
19: Daf 5b-6a
Taking
Stock of Inventory
In the
previous shiur, we saw how the Gemara presents the radical position of R.
Yochanan regarding suffering. In my
interpretation, R. Yochanan rejects, or at least seeks to limit, the idea that
suffering in this world may have positive meaning either as a form of atonement
for sins or as an expression of Divine love.
Now, the Gemara swings the pendulum in the opposite direction. It presents a story about R. Huna,
which advocates for the conventional understanding of suffering as a punishment
for sin:
Once four
hundred jars of wine belonging to R. Huna
turned sour.
Rav Yehuda,
the brother of R. Sala the Pious,
and the other
scholars
(some say: R.
Adda b. Ahaba and the other scholars)
went in to
visit him and said to him:
The master
ought to examine his actions.
He said to
them:
Am I suspect
in your eyes?
They replied:
Is the Holy
One, blessed be He, suspect of punishing without justice?
He said to
them:
If somebody
has heard of anything against me, let him speak out.
They replied:
We have heard
that the master does not give his tenant
his [lawful
share in the] vine twigs.
He replied:
Does he leave
me any?
He steals
them all!
They said to
him:
That is
exactly what the proverb says:
If you steal
from a thief you also have a taste of it!
He said to
them:
I pledge
myself to give it to him [in the future].
Some report
that
thereupon the
vinegar became wine again;
others that
the vinegar went up so high
that it was
sold for the same price as wine.
Previously,
suffering generally referred to illness or death.
Now the Gemara explores a different type of suffering: economic loss. R. Huna loses some four hundred jugs
of wine to spoilage. We are not told
of R. Hunas response to this calamity.
The first to comment on the events is a delegation of visiting rabbis. The rabbis inform R. Huna that in
light of this event, R. Huna should examine his ways. This recalls the Gemaras statement
on the previous page that one who endures suffering should consider his deeds. Underlying this advice is what we
have called the classical or biblical approach to suffering: Suffering is a
Divine punishment for sin. One who
undergoes suffering should attempt to identify the sin for which he is being
punished and repent.
It does not
occur to R. Huna that his own actions may have precipitated his loss. He is indeed offended by this
suggestion. He does not believe that
he has committed any unworthy deeds.
The rabbis respond by saying that to deny any wrongdoing is in fact to cast
aspersions upon God Himself. This
response brings us back to the theological problem at the heart of human
suffering. If God is both good and
all-powerful, there can be no unjustified suffering in this world. To claim that one has suffered
without having sinned is to suggest that God is either not entirely good, not
entirely all-powerful, or both.
R. Huna
accepts this claim but still cannot find any misdeeds in his own past. He asks if anyone else has heard of
anything he did wrong. At this
point, the story begins to become complex.
At first it appeared that the rabbis were simply basing themselves on a
theological postulate. Since R. Huna
has suffered, he must have sinned.
Now it becomes clear that they have a particular sin in mind for which they have
come to rebuke him. They understand
that he has not been giving his sharecropper a fair share of the branches that
were pruned from his vineyard. This
is in violation of the Mishna in Bava Metzia which states that
Just as [the sharecropper and the owner] divide the wine [from a leased
vineyard] so do they divide the prunings
This alleged sin is significant for
two reasons. First, it makes the
loss of the wine a measure for measure punishment for R. Hunas sin. Just as he has sinned with regard to
the produce of his vineyard, so is he punished with regard to the fruits of his
vineyard. On the other hand, the
punishment also appears to be way out of proportion.
The value of the branches cut from a
vineyard is miniscule compared to the value of the wine. It seems as if, at least in the case
of a great rabbi like R. Huna, relatively minor infractions can accrue
significant penalties.
R. Huna,
however, denies wrongdoing. His
argument is: Does he leave me any? He steals them all! Neither R. Hunas
argument nor the rabbis response to it is terribly clear. Literally, it would seem that R. Huna
is denying the charges altogether.
It is not he who has denied his sharecropper his rightful share of the prunings. It is the sharecropper who seized all
of the branches for himself! If this were the case, however, the claim of the
rabbis, that even so, he was still stealing, does not make any sense. Rashi thus interprets R.Hunas
statement as meaning that the sharecropper generally defrauds his master, and
hence he has a right to recoup some of his losses by taking all of the prunings.
The rabbis
citation of the proverb that, If you steal from a thief you also have a taste
of it! is also unclear. This saying
would appear to refer to a case in which a person steals something from a person
who has in turn stolen the object from a third party. In this case, it makes sense that
this deed is still considered theft, even though the person stolen from did not
have rightful possession of the goods.
Here, R. Huna is merely taking back what is rightfully his! R. Huna is
indeed being held to high standards.
He is attempting to counter his sharecroppers shady practices with a
questionable practice of his own.
For this, he is treated as an outright thief, and a penalty far greater that the
value of what he took is exacted from him.
R. Huna then
commits to rectify his actions. In
response, he regains his loss from the spoiled wine. The story comes full circle. R. Huna returns to the position from
whence he started. Just as God
punishes the sinner, He restores the penitent to his place before the sin.
The way in
which R. Hunas loss is restored is subject to debate. Each suggested ending to the story
has its strengths and weaknesses.
According to the first version, the vinegar turned back into wine. This is clearly the most just outcome
as R. Huna regains exactly what he has lost.
However, it also assumes a miraculous intervention. By the laws of nature, the
fermentation process is not reversible: Wine turns into vinegar, but not vice
versa. According to the second
version, R. Huna only recovered the financial value of his loss. This comes about through a sudden
rise in the price of vinegar and fall in the price of wine. R. Huna ends up profiting from his
shorting of the wine market.
Though unlikely, this outcome does not violate any laws of nature.
In presenting
both outcomes, the Gemara gets the best of both worlds. Unlike a conventional storyteller,
the Gemara does not have to choose a single ending. Rather, it leaves two possible
endings hanging in the air, allowing the reader to absorb both simultaneously.
This story
teaches us about our moral accountability in this world using a classic rabbinic
narrative technique. In most
cultures, when a story about a wise or holy man is used to teach a lesson, the
hero of the story appears as perfect and all-knowing. He knew the lesson all along, and it
is only others who need the story to become aware of it. For example, in the story in the
first Mishna of our chapter, R Gamliel is the wise hero. He knows the laws regarding the
Shema from the get go. But in
the course of the story, his ignorant children are educated and brought to their
fathers level of knowledge.
Often,
however, in rabbinic stories, the rabbi-hero is not all-knowing. Rather, he is ignorant in some way,
either morally or spiritually. Only
in the course of the story, through his experiences and interaction with the
other characters, does he learn the important lesson of the story. In such stories, we learn with
the rabbi, not from him. In
our case, R. Huna begins the story ignorant of his own misdeeds and of the fact
that his misfortunes must be a result of those deeds. As the story progresses, R. Huna,
along with the reader, learns how God maintains a tight moral economy of human
actions and Divine response.
This form of
didactic story presents a radically different notion of spiritual and moral
leadership. Our rabbis are not great
because, like some sort of semi-Divine being, they possess all necessary
qualities and knowledge. Rather,
they are great in their human imperfections; they learn from their experiences,
increasing their knowledge and improving themselves. The readers of rabbinic stories can
imitate their rabbinic heroes by also seeking to struggle and learn from their
own study and experiences.
Bedroom
postures
The Gemara,
having completed its discussion of suffering, now returns to the theme of beds
and bedtime. The next sugya
consists of four sayings of Abba Binyamin, the first of which discusses issues
regarding ones bed:
It has been
taught: Abba Binyamin says,
All my life I
took great pains about two things:
that my
prayer should be before my bed
and that my
bed should be placed north and south.
'That my
prayer should be before my bed.
What is the
meaning of 'before my bed'?
Is it perhaps
literally in front of my bed?
Has not Rav
Yehuda said in the name of Rav
(some say, in
the name of R. Yehoshua b. Levi):
How do you
know that when one prays
there should
be nothing interposing between him and the wall?
Because it
says:
Then
Chizkiyahu turned his face to the wall and prayed (Yishayahu 38:2)?
Do not read
'before my bed', but 'near my bed'.
Abba Binyamin
was careful about two things. First,
his prayer should be before his bed.
What does this mean? Previously, we have seen discussions of saying the evening
Shema on ones bed." The term prayer, however, refers to the Shemoneh
Esrei. We have no other record
of saying the Maariv prayer at ones bedside or before bedtime. Indeed, previously we saw an opinion
that urged the individual to say Maariv earlier in the evening, in the
synagogue before returning home from work.
This problem may underlie the Gemaras discussion of this phrase.
The Gemara,
at first, takes this notion as referring to the physical position of the pray-er
rather than the time of the prayer.
A person should pray in front of his bed.
This notion is contradicted by another Amoraic saying that requires a
person to pray directly facing the wall, with nothing intervening. Like instructions to pray next to
ones bed, this advice seems to refer to private prayer in ones home. The proof-text for this principle is
most curious in this context. It
cites a verse from Yishayahu (and II Melakhim) which mentions that
Chizkiyahu turned his face to the wall before praying. What is notable about this proof-text
is that in the previous verse we are told that Chizkiyahu was ill, on the verge
of death. It seems that in this
case, the pray-er was actually in his bed at the time of the prayer. I dont know what to make of this,
but it seems to me to be too big a coincidence to overlook.
This apparent
contradiction is resolved by asserting that Abba Binyamin did not mean literally
next to ones bed but merely close to ones bed. Rashi and other commentators take
this to mean that the Gemara is switching from a spatial to a temporal
understanding of Abba Binyamins statement.
He meant, not physically next to ones bed, but rather close to ones
bedtime. The problem with this
interpretation is that, as we have noted, there seems to be no reason that one
would want to postpone Maariv till bedtime. Rashi therefore takes the term bed
to refer, not to the time one goes to sleep, but to the time one gets up. Thus Abba Binyamin was careful to
pray as soon as he awoke. R.
Chananel (cited by Benovitz) argues that the word bed refers in fact to
meal-time, as people in those days used to eat while reclining. Thus one should say Maariv
before eating dinner. Neither of
these interpretations seems to capture the simple meaning of the words of the
Gemara.
I would like
to suggest that in fact Abba Binyamin and the Gemara refer to both the time
and the place of ones prayer throughout the discussion. When the Gemara states that Abba
Binyamin merely meant close to ones bed," it means that one should pray facing
the wall, but close to ones bed.
Nevertheless, the Gemara implies that one should pray before one goes to bed. It is true that we have no other
source for this idea of saying Maariv so late in the day. Perhaps this problem can be resolved
by examining the individual who makes this statement, Abba Binyamin. This figure appears only on this page
of the Talmud. However, from his
appellation Abba," we can deduce that he most likely lived in the land of
Israel during the Tanaitic period.
(M.B. Lerner, Enquiries into the meaning of various titles and designations (Teudah
4).) If this is the case, he lived
in a time and place where ideas about the evening prayers were still in flux. On the one hand, as we have seen,
many, if not all, of the sages of the land of Israel held that one must recite
the Shema immediately before going to bed.
On the other hand, Abba Binyamin may have believed that the Shemoneh
Esrei is best said immediately following the Shema. Furthermore, given the various
sources cited above about the appropriateness of praying for ones wellbeing
before going to bed, Abba Binyamin may have held that bedtime is the optimal
time for saying Maariv, rather than in the synagogue earlier in the
evening.
The Gemara
now takes on Abba Binyamins second major concern, which is the orientation of
ones bed:
'And that my
bed should be placed north and south.'
For R. Chama
b. R. Chanina said in the name of R. Yitzchak:
Whosoever
places his bed north and south will have male children, as it says:
With Thy
treasure is filled their bellies,
those
who have sons in plenty (Tehillim 17:4).
R. Nachman b.
Yitzchak says:
His wife also
will not miscarry.
Here it is
written:
With Thy
treasure is filled their bellies,
and elsewhere
it is written:
And when her
days to be delivered were fulfilled,
behold there
were twins in her womb (Bereishit 25:24).
Not
surprisingly, the Gemara here sees a connection between the appropriateness of
ones bed and the success of ones offspring.
The claim that having ones bed face north will have such a positive
effect is based on the fact that the word for north (tzafon) is almost
identical to the word for treasure (tzafun) in the verse from
Tehillim. The verse then reads
something like this, Because of your facing north, their bellies will be
filled, (i.e. your wives will get
pregnant) and be satisfied with sons.
We have
already discussed the significance of north when we discussed the north wind
that played Davids harp. I am still
unclear why the north is associated with good things. In this case, it seems not unlikely
that it has to do with the rabbis understanding of demons. However, we should note that in the
Persian belief system that represented the mainstream culture in Talmudic
Babylonia, north is associated with hell and other bad things (see Shai Secunda,
Reading the Bavli in Iran in JQR 100).
Abba
Binyamins next statement continues on the theme of appropriate behavior
surrounding prayer:
It has been
taught:
Abba Binyamin
says,
When two
people enter [a Synagogue] to pray,
and one of
them finishes his prayer first
and does not
wait for the other but leaves,
his prayer is
torn up before his face.
For it is
written:
Thou that
tearest thyself in thine anger,
shall the
earth be forsaken for thee? (Iyov 18:4)
And more than
that,
he causes the
Divine Presence to remove itself from Israel.
For it says
Or shall the rock be removed out of its
place? (ibid.)
And 'rock' is
nothing else than the Holy One, blessed be He,
as it says:
Of the Rock
that begot thee thou wast unmindful.(Devarim 32:18)
And if he
does wait, what is his reward?
R. Yosi b. R.
Chanina says:
He is
rewarded with the blessings enumerated in the following verse:
Oh that thou
wouldest hearken to My commandments!
Then would
thy peace be as a river,
and thy
righteousness as the waves of the sea;
Thy seed also
would be as the sand,
and the
offspring of thy body like the grains thereof etc. (Yishayahu 48:18-19).
Abba Binyamin
speaks of a situation in which two individuals enter a synagogue to pray. This situation is in line with
another teaching of Abba Binyamin, further along in our sugya, in which
he states: A man's prayer is heard [by God] only in the Synagogue. This
statement suggests that one should pray in a synagogue even when there is no
minyan or communal service.
Hence these two individuals enter to pray even when there is no one else there. Abba Binyamin harshly criticizes the
person who exits the synagogue upon finishing his prayers, leaving his friend
who is still praying behind. Why is
this such a terrible thing? I think that Abba Binyamin felt that there is a
communal aspect to prayer, even in the absence of a minyan. The simple act of standing in
solidarity with ones friend while he or she prays strengthens his or her
prayer. By abandoning his friend,
this man showed a lack of concern for his prayers and his needs. He egotistically left as soon as his
own needs were taken care of. As
such, God rejects his prayer.
Furthermore, such fellowship among Jews is greatly desired by God. Failure to show consideration for one
neighbor results in God Himself, as it where, retreating from the Earth.
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