Bava Basra 95
Our Gemara on this daf discussed wine that begins to become vinegary, and at what point does it lose its status of wine. In such a case, the blessing might revert from “Hagafen” back to “Shehakol,” the universal blessing that one makes for foods that do not grow or have a specific status, such as drinks, meat, and other items. Food items that have distinction or unique status tend to get their own special blessing, such as the Hagafen that we just discussed and also Hamotzi, the blessing on bread. According to the Gemara (Berachos 35b), wine has dual qualities – “it satisfies, and gladdens” – and so it deserves its own beracha.
If we compare the words in the blessing of Hagafen (“He who creates the fruit of the vine”) to Hamotzi (“He who takes bread out of the ground”), we will notice something odd. He who takes bread out of the ground – really? I have not seen bread grow! Bread is made through a process of threshing the grain, grinding it, kneading the dough, letting it rise, and baking it. It certainly does not pop out of the ground! Yet, the blessing is thanking G-d for bringing bread out of the ground. This is precisely the point. Even though you have to work hard for it, never forget that G-d is the one who really gives it to you.
But what about the blessing on wine, which is crafted in the opposite manner? Here we recite, “He who creates the fruit of the vine.” The blessing references the fruit, not the actual wine. Ironically, the blessing on grapes is not “He who creates the fruit of the vine,” but rather “He who creates the fruit of the tree.” (See Shulchan Aruch, OC 202:1.) Pashut peshat we can say the Hebrew word peri (fruit) really means produce or product. The main product of grapes is wine, not the grapes themselves. Still, how do we account for the textual difference between wine and bread? Why not say, “Hamotzi yayin” – He who brings wine out of the ground?
I will suggest that there is a subtle message here about wine. Human industry and ingenuity can be harnessed for lofty, or sinful pursuits, and the choice is solely ours. G-d says to those who might abuse wine (which is far less likely the case by bread), “Don’t blame me, I did not make the wine. YOU made the wine, I just made grapes.” This is why the blessing focuses on the grapes.
In Vino Veritas
Bava Basra 96
Our Gemara on Amud Beis discusses a principle of oenology, which has halachic and metaphysical implications:
Rava said: Any wine that does not contain three parts water to one part pure wine is not regarded as wine, as it is excessively strong.
In those days, the original wine mixture was so potent that when they actually drank it, they had to water it down.
When we find something in the natural world, the mystics tend to attach a spiritual significance to it as well. The more prominent or impressive the item is in this world, the more consequential it is in its spiritual manifestation in higher realms. Sex, food, love and wine all occupy a special place in the mystical world because they are so powerful in this world, and so must represent the tip of the iceberg, and a deeper universal truth. The Shalah (Toldos Adam:15) famously takes this principle to its ultimate conclusion. He states that every word in Hebrew, the holy tongue, is a metaphor or borrowed term from a spiritual reality. He says the Hebrew word for rain, geshem, is not actually rain. Rather it means the way in which G-d brings down sustenance and blessings from the upper world to all the lower worlds to allow for growth and development. In this world, rain is the physical manifestation of that, and thus Hebrew uses geshem as a metaphor to represent rain.
Therefore, the process of blending wine with water must also mean something. Dover Tzedek (Kuntres Ner HaMitzvos 2) says that Torah is compared by scripture and rabbinic literature to wine, water and milk (see Ta’anis 7a.) These must be blended properly to achieve the final refined product of Torah study and action: A perfected soul and character. (What I am about to say is adapted from the Dover Tzedek but not precisely his thoughts.)
Water represents G-d’s unvarnished, but also raw truth. Just as water is simple, unprocessed, abundant, clear, and vital to life, so is G-d’s basic truth in its most unprocessed manner.
The milk part of Torah represents the sweetness, which is a feeling and sensation. As it states in Shir Hashirim (4:11): “Honey and milk under your tongue.” That is in the realm of the heart. There are emotional arousals and stirrings that come from Torah which are attitudes, dispositions, moods and mental states which are not rooted in rational, linear thought. And just as it stays under the tongue, so too these ideas, intuitions and perceptions are often better left unsaid, as they are in a mystical, impressionistic form and defy explicit verbalization or representation.
Finally, we have the wine part of the Torah, which is the product of fermentation. This is the derived wisdom that comes from creating a balanced mixture of raw truth, impressionistic truth, and deductive analysis (water, milk and wine). Just as one can justifiably argue that wine is the most refined and cultivated food, a unique encounter between Man’s technology and Nature, leading to altered states, the same can be said regarding the Torah thoughts and states of mind that comes from a fully integrated assimilation of Torah.
