Bava Metzia 77
Our Gemara on amud aleph discusses the unique status of the workers in the city of Machoza. They were conditioned to continuous hard work, and having an unanticipated day off would be harmful to their routine.
In the times of the Gemara, Machoza was a bustling metropolis. From various references in Shas, one gets the impression that it was a real urban landscape with a scholarly class, a wealthy business class, and many laborers. The laborers have been described as constantly mobile and also prone to bacchanalia (Gittin 6a and Taanis 26a, respectively.) They also have been described as haughty, influential with the secular government, and upwardly mobile (Bava Basra 9a, Rosh Hashana 17a, Bava Metzia 59a, and Shabbos 109a). Machoza seemed to suffer from both the blights and the privileges that occur in many metropolitan cities: a busy environment of merchants, laborers, aristocrats, and sages, with acts of humanity and decency mixed with depravity.
In our Gemara we found that the workers of Machoza don’t handle a sudden day off well. The eminent psychologist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl wrote of what he called the “existential vacuum,” when people suffer from a loss of meaning in their life. When bored and without distraction, this pain hits the hardest. Many of our religious moments which are designed to force contemplation and reflection via removal of diversions, such as davening and Shabbos, become unbearable when the person is unable to face himself. Getting high, binge-watching on Shabbos, and sleeping until the afternoon may all be coming from a dread of facing certain aspects of self and life. It is a call to challenge complacency and come to grips with the big and scary questions of life. A person can use this time to grow, but some may feel the urge to run away. The best and the worst psychological and emotional exchanges happen on Shabbos in families. The biggest fights and extremes, but also a reconnection with spouses and children.
The concluding words of the prophet Hoshea (14:10) make the same point: “The wise will consider these words, the prudent will take note of them. For the paths of G-d are smooth; the righteous can walk on them, while sinners stumble on them.”
He Sees The Moment
Bava Metzia 78
Our Gemara on amud beis discusses the idea that certain funds are dedicated for one purpose and cannot be transferred to another purpose, no matter how noble. Thus, charitable funds donated for the indigent to use for the festive Purim meal cannot be used for other charitable needs. (The actual halacha is subject to discussion and qualification; see Shulchan Aruch OC 694:2).
Chavos Yair (responsum 232) rules that if a person gave someone food in honor of Shabbos, he should not eat it during the week. (I presume that in our times, with the existence of refrigerators and freezers, there is an assumption that when a person sends over food for Shabbos, there is implicit intention for the recipient to enjoy the leftovers during the week.) Rav Yosef Engel in Gilyonei HaShas on this daf also compares this idea to a Gemara Yerushalmi (Nazir 5:1) which states that if one pledges to bring a mincha offering for Shabbos, he is not permitted to bring that offering on a weekday. Apparently, even though it is the identical sacrifice, the dimension of bringing the sacrifice on a day which is characterized as more holy changes the performance of the mitzvah.
We see from that idea that the spiritual state of time (and possibly place) affects the mitzvah itself. How do we understand this? Intuitively it makes sense that certain times arouse human responses based on an accumulation of experiences and memories. It’s always a good time to buy a gift, but buying a gift on an anniversary is potentially more meaningful. It is not the mitzvah that changes, nor is it G-d, but as humans we are affected by the patterns of life.
One of the great gifts of Judaism is in its ability to promote awareness of time. Aside from the annual cycle of holidays, rejoicing, grieving, and repenting, there are the cycles of purity and impurity that regulate marital life. When time stops, we notice. There is a dread that comes into our awareness when we come into contact with death, we can either deny this dread with more distractions or reach for a higher part of ourselves that knows our soul and knows that this is our connection to the eternal. The seasons and cycles of the Torah force us to constantly face the passing of time. A woman has her period every month and is reminded of the biological clock, but even the man must pause and assess his relationship and reflect on what needs to be renewed, an imperative caused by an enforced cessation of physical intimacy.
It is notable that the Jewish nation’s introduction to the Torah begins with two mitzvos sensitive to time: Rosh Chodesh (Shemos 12:2) and the avoidance of the matzah dough fermenting and rising (Devarim 16:3). The Torah reminds us that we have no time, life is short, and without the Torah we are a passing shadow (Tehillim 144:4). The greatest humans transcended their moments in time and lived outside of it by becoming attached to G-d and part of something bigger than the moment, though the moment must be seized. The great man sees the moment so he can seize the moment.
