Menachos – Daf 20
Our Gemara on amud aleph (see Rashi, “aderaba”) discusses the idea that the wine libation, after the blood is sprinkled, represents the joy and relief of obtaining atonement.
The Yalkut Divrei Yosef (Sukkos) remarks that this is why Sukkos in particular is a time of great rejoicing – even more so than the other festivals – since it comes on the heels of having received atonement on Yom Kippur.
Shem MiShmuel (Yom Kippur, chapter 15) elaborates on this theme. The joy of receiving atonement is not merely an aftereffect, but rather an obligation and part of the atonement process. He remarks that somebody who does not thoroughly accept in his heart that he receives forgiveness on Yom Kippur in fact suffers a self-fulfilling prophecy. The efficacy of Yom Kippur will be diluted without the internal sense and belief in one’s heart in the forgiveness process. The joy that one experiences after forgiveness is a litmus test for how deeply one believes in and internalizes the process.
This resonates psychologically as well. Much of our reality is constructed by our personal beliefs. If we believe in forgiveness, we can be forgiving of others as well as ourselves. Forgiveness of others, middah k’negged middah, inspires forgiveness from G-d. As the Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 17a) states: “One who overcomes his natural inclination toward judgment and resentment receives similar forgiveness and acceptance from G-d.”
More Than the Sum: When the Tzibbur Carries You
Daf 21
Our Gemara on amud beis discusses the requirement, option, or permissibility of a kohen to pay into the half-shekel fund that supported the community sacrifices.
The Kohanim had a proof text to demonstrate they should not even be allowed to contribute. There is a requirement that every sacrifice of a Kohen be completely offered on the altar (Vayikra 6:16). They argued that, as such, if they would have a monetary share in the sacrifice, the weekly bread on the Shulchan, as well as the bread offering on Shavuos, would be rendered impermissible to consume.
Ultimately, their argument is rejected.
The Rogotchover says this shows that a tzibbur is not just ten individuals, but something greater and distinct from its parts. This is how the Kohanim can participate in the community sacrifices without triggering the clause that it must be fully consumed on the altar.
The power of the congregation is deeply ingrained within Judaism. For example, the Gemara (Berachos 7b) states that the prayers of the tzibbur are not rejected. This may work through the mechanism that if one individual has less intention or focus in his prayers, his prayers ride along with the others, and perhaps each fills in the lacunae of the others. Similarly, an individual may merit less than the collective based on his sins.
Psychologically, people feel more energy and become bolder when they are part of a group. This can work negatively or positively. Mob psychology can drive people to engage in boundary-breaking violations because it does not feel like a violation when “everyone is doing it.” Likewise, our spiritual energy can increase by joining a group in a religious endeavor. This is not just a “psychological trick.” If something works with human beings, it is because G-d designed it that way, and it therefore has a purpose.
I will share a personal story to illustrate this principle. One morning, I was feeling particularly tired and somewhat depressed about a number of personal failings. Even though I had showered the night before, I had an urge to take a shower again – to somehow wash off the “mental grime.” My thought was, “This is silly – you’re just enacting a need to wash away your troubles through a symbolic act.” But then I thought, “That’s exactly why it feels good, and that’s exactly why I should do it.” I took the shower, knowing full well that it would not change any of the things that were getting me down, but also knowing that, being a human being, it would somehow make me feel better. And it did.
G-d designed within us the ability to be contained and influenced by community. Sometimes this can be negative, but mostly it is positive. An important part of religious life is being connected to the community and allowing it to influence you.
Yaakov’s Stone Zone
Daf 22
Our Gemara on amud aleph discusses the halacha that one may not use material for the altar or sacrificial service from substances that were already used for personal, secular purposes.
This is expressed in modern-day halacha in that it is forbidden to take a used article of clothing and turn it into a cover for a Torah scroll (Shulchan Aruch, O.C. 153:21; Rama, ibid. 157:1). Chavos Yair (161) argues that if it is changed in form, then it is permitted. Magen Avrohom (ibid. 157:5) brings proof for this idea from the Midrash that the women used their mirrors to donate copper for the Kiyor (wash basin) in the Mishkan.
The Tur Ha’Aruch (Bereishis 28:18) raises a question: How could Yaakov use the stones for an altar if he had slept on them earlier (ibid. 11)? The Tur answers that a private altar (bama) is not subject to those restrictions. The Minchas Chinuch (Kometz HaMincha 40) questions the Tur based on Zevachim (116b), which teaches that it is forbidden to use secular materials even for a private altar. The Minchas Chinuch answers that these stones were already used for an altar by Avraham and even Adam HaRishon, and because they were used for sacred purposes beforehand, they were permitted for an altar.
However, this begs a different question. If these stones were sacred, how could Yaakov sleep on them? Pardes Yosef (ibid.) offers a number of answers. The idea of placing the stones around his head to protect him was not the same as placing his head directly on them. In this case, he was preventing damage rather than deriving a direct benefit, which would be permitted. Another answer based on the Midrash is that in the morning, Yaakov found all the stones he placed around his head merged into one. Since they changed form, they should be permitted, based on the Magen Avrohom cited earlier.
However, I have a difficulty with the Midrash cited. In Rashi (ibid. 28:11), it seems they turned into one stone while he was sleeping. However, from Ramban’s (28:17) version of the narrative, one could read that the stones became one after he awoke, before he made the altar. Therefore, this answer would only work according to Ramban. A careful reading of Midrash Tehillim (91:5) shows the following language: “Yaakov woke up in great fright and found the stones merged into one.” If the stones transformed themselves while he was sleeping, that means Yaakov slept on them when they were still originally altar stones – how could he have done this? Even if they transformed while he was sleeping, he initiated the act before the transformation occurred.
The simplest answer, which also fits Rashi and the narrative of the Scripture and Midrash, is that this was part of Yaakov’s fear and distress. After his dream, he realized it was a holy site and was distressed that he had slept in such an “awesome place” (ibid. 28:16). Had he known it was a holy site, he would not have gone to sleep there. He also did not know at the time that the stones were holy.
We might ask: Why did G-d want him to make this accidental trespass? Generally speaking, we hold (Chullin 7a) that G-d does not allow the righteous to sin even inadvertently. We must say that there was some message in this process that made it worthwhile. I believe it was a message of comfort to Yaakov that even though he was leaving his family, G-d would take care of him like a parent. A parent does not mind if a child sleeps in their bed, so to speak. This is similar to the Midrash (Rashi, Devarim 32:11) that G-d acts like a mother eagle protecting its young from arrows while carrying them; so too, the Clouds of Glory protected the Jews from Egyptian arrows. There are times when G-d’s love, like parental love, transcends the boundaries of what is normally considered appropriate or respectful.
I will conclude with an even more powerful statement of how G-d’s love for the Jewish people transcends prohibitions. There is a prohibition against a man taking back a divorced wife, and the Jewish people are compared in Yirmiyahu (3:1) to a wife who was unfaithful and subsequently divorced. The Gemara (Yoma 86b) remarks:
“Rabbi Yoḥanan said: ‘Great is repentance, as it overrides even a prohibition of the Torah. How so? As it is stated that G-d said: “…If a man sends away his wife and she goes from him and becomes another man’s, may he return to her again? Will not that land be greatly polluted? But you have committed adultery with many lovers; and would you yet return to Me, said the L-rd” (Jeremiah 3:1). Indeed, the Torah states: “Her former husband, who sent her away, may not take her again to be his wife after she has been made impure” (Deuteronomy 24:4). The relationship between the Jewish people and the Holy One, Blessed be He, is compared to that between a husband and wife. Just as it is prohibited for an adulterous wife to return to her husband, it should be prohibited for the Jewish people to return to G-d from their sins, yet repentance overrides this prohibition.’”