Chullin – Daf 16
Our Gemara on amud beis states a position that in the wilderness, the Jews were not allowed to consume ordinary meat. The only time that one could eat meat is if it was part of a sacrifice, such as a Shelamim. Sefer Daf al Daf quotes the Sar Shalom Mi-Belz who says that this Gemara proves that one is not obligated to have meat at a melaveh malka meal. His reasoning is as follows: If, in the wilderness, they could consume only sacrificial meat, meat served for melaveh malka would have had to be from a Shelamim sacrifice brought on Friday before Shabbos. But by Saturday evening, such meat would be considered nosar and thus forbidden; a Shelamim must be consumed within the day of the sacrifice, that evening, and the day after, which in this case would be Friday, Friday night, and Shabbos day. After that, it must be burnt. If so, in the wilderness it would not have been possible to have a melaveh malka with meat.
While we are on the topic, let’s take a closer look at melaveh malka. Regardless of what food is to be eaten, the ritual itself is part of honoring the Shabbos. It is our last experience of Shabbos and our way of transitioning from it. The Gemara (Shabbos 119b and Rashi) compares it to escorting a dignitary on his way out of your home.
There is also a tradition that one who eats seudas melaveh malka will merit the resurrection of the dead (Mateh Moshe 513, and see Eliyahu Rabbah OH 300:2). This resurrection will come from the remains of the tailbone. What is the connection? Symbolically, we can see the obvious correlation: If one honors the ending of Shabbos, even once it is technically over, in turn the final remains of the person – the last bits that have not decayed – will merit a resurrection.
But just because it is a clever derush, does it really make sense that one should merit something as grand as being revived from the dead for eating this final meal? Though there is a symbolic correspondence, does it really follow the classic middah kneged middah (measure for measure) compensation? Are the two equivalent?
On a deeper level, eating the melaveh malka meal effectuates a revival of the dead because this very action of celebrating and clinging to spirituality as Shabbos wanes is not merely a symbolic act of resurrection – one is actually performing resurrection. Celebrating and holding onto the holiness of Shabbos as the week begins is a form of resurrection itself.
As we noted in our discussion of Chullin daf 15, spirituality is not a metaphor; to the contrary, the physical world is a metaphorical representation of the spiritual world. Therefore, the physical enactment of the resurrection of the dead is only one dimension of the deeper principle. When a person actively engages in holding onto the remainders of the spiritual benefit of Shabbos, they are tapping into the deeper source that enables the resurrection of the dead. Furthermore, at that moment, by bringing a part of Shabbos into their weekday, they are already living a form of renewal and rejuvenation.
Go With the Flow: Rivers, Bridges, and the Local Pulse of Halacha
Daf 18
Our Gemara on amud beis reports Rav Yosef’s explanation for what seems to be contradictory halachic practices in different locales. Rav Yosef says, “Nahara, nahara upashta” – Each river and its unique course, i.e., each place follows its custom.
What does Rav Yosef mean? Rashi explains that rivers naturally flow differently in different locations. The Aramaic word pashta is translated as the direction of spread or flow. Later, on daf 57a, he elaborates and says that in some locations rivers flow strongly; in others, they flow more gently. So too, in some locations the halacha may be stricter, and in others, less so.
Rabbeinu Gershom translates the word pashta differently. It still comes from the same root meaning spread, but here it means the bridge that goes over the river. The metaphor is that just as each river requires a different kind of bridge, so too each locale may require a different kind of halachic ruling.
Let us analyze how Rashi and Rabbeinu Gershom understand this idiom. Both of them are implying that it is not merely a random statement, but rather that there is an interaction between the river and its environment. That is to say, the halachic rulings are dynamic and based on the needs and interactions – one might also say on the analytical skills and interpretations – of the local rabbinic authority.
However, there is a difference between the interpretations of Rashi and Rabbeinu Gershom as connoted by their metaphors. According to Rashi, we may say the river flows according to the terrain, and so too the halacha responds to the terrain of the location. But according to Rabbeinu Gershom, it is not the river that is accommodating; it is the bridge that is accommodating.
I think there is an extra level of meaning here. The practice and rulings of halacha are a bridge mechanism toward reaching a goal, just as a bridge takes you over the river from one place to another. So, the philosophy according to Rabbeinu Gershom is that the halacha follows different rulings in different locations in order to serve as a bridge toward the desired goal of expressing the will of G-d in the correct way in that place. This is reminiscent of what we discussed in relation to Chullin daf 15, based on Vayikra Rabbah 13, that the Commandments have a function of refining and elevating human behavior, and therefore they can be a means to an end – a bridge – and not just an intrinsic act. The factors that may influence different halachic decisions are what best create this bridge.