69 — Holy Hardware,  Stoneware and Halachic Hacks

Our Gemara on Amud Beis notes that certain vessels made out of dung, earth, and stone are not susceptible to ritual impurity.

Impurity equals death and traumatic lack of connection to the Godly life force, and therefore chaos. This is why, in general, the more complex or functional a vessel is, the more it is susceptible to impurity. Disposable or simple vessels such as the ones above are not receptors of impurity because they do not have enough representation of order and life within them to begin with. Certain kinds of unfinished vessels also are not susceptible to impurity for the same reason (Chulin 25a).

What is most fascinating about the laws of purity is how extensive and invasive they must have been when they were observed properly in the times of our Sages. In the times of the Temple, any object that a Niddah woman sat or lay upon became an Av Hatumah (a primary source of Tumah, Mishna Zavim 5:6). This must have necessitated extreme and difficult measures, especially for families of cohanim that subsisted on Terumah bread and sacred food, which had to be eaten in a state of ritual purity. Also, even a non-Kohen sage (who was part of the chaver society) would voluntarily take upon himself to treat his chulin food as if it were Terumah (for example, see Mishna Chagigah 2:7). Can you imagine dunking your beds, linen, couch, eating utensils, and dining room furniture in a mikvah every month?

The fact that there is no record of ancient observant Jews having their niddah wives live in separate dwellings, even with all these complications—unlike many other ancient cultures who observed this taboo—is a testament to a strong and specific will to NOT distance or reject a Niddah woman and a testament to the unique Jewish respect for intimate life between husband and wife.

The Israeli archeologist Yonatan Adler wrote a book whose purpose was to look for objective evidence of what Torah laws were observed and when (“The Origins of Judaism: An Archaeological-Historical Reappraisal”, New Haven, CT 2022, pp. 66–71). In this book he notes a fascinating anomaly that lends credence to the widespread observance of these purity laws despite what must have been the incredible practical hurdles we discussed. He found an exclusive preponderance of chalk vessels in Jewish settlements dating as far back as the first century CE. This is an odd and inconvenient technology which was very different from the standard earthenware vessels located in gentile archaeological counterparts. It can be explained by the halacha that stone vessels do not become impure.

Another evident psychological and sociological point is the phenomenon of using technology to circumvent—or at least make observance of Torah law easier. Folks, it did not begin with the Shabbos clock or crock pot. We see here an ancient “Kosher Innovations” product designed specifically to overcome the halachic challenges of impurity during the Temple era.

70 — Messiah Mindset: Living Like Redemption Is Tomorrow

Our Mishna on Amud Aleph speaks of a separate prohibition, aside from eating, that it is also prohibited to cut the new grain until the grain designated for the Omer sacrifice is cut (or possibly offered; see the Gemara’s debate on Amud Beis). The proof text is the verse which describes the Omer as “first cut” (Vayikra 23:10).

The Sefas Emes raises a question: in our times, since there is no sacrifice, does this restriction apply? He suggests it should, as we see a mindfulness of our sages that we should anticipate the rebuilding of the Temple any year. If we cut other grain first, it could disrupt the potential of bringing a proper Omer that year. The Messiah can come tomorrow.

The idea of living and feeling as if the Messiah can come at any moment requires some study. We can and should believe in the redemption as we believe in any other teaching. How and why did it become a particular mitzvah to anticipate and expect the Mashiach to come any day?

The Rambam is most famously quoted on this. In his Thirteen principles of faith (Commentary on Mishna, Introduction to Perek Chelek, Sanhedrin):

“The twelfth principle is the Messianic era and that is to believe and to confirm that he will come even if it seems to be taking a long time and to anticipate his arrival.”

However, I would say it is not utterly clear from the strict language of the Rambam if he means it is some special mitzvah to constantly expect Mashiach, or if he means it within the context of keeping the belief and expectation despite the fact that it has taken so long. However, there is a teaching in the Gemara (Shabbos 31a) that is more direct:

“With regard to the same verse, Rava said: After departing from this world, when a person is brought to judgment for the life he lived in this world, they say to him in the order of that verse: Did you conduct business faithfully? Did you designate times for Torah study? Did you engage in procreation? Did you await salvation?…”

Furthermore, the Rambam codifies this clearly in Laws of Kings (11:1): “Anyone who does not believe in him or does not await his coming denies not only the statements of the other prophets but those of the Torah and Moses, our teacher.”

This certainly implies a specific requirement to actively anticipate and await the Mashiach.

The Shu”t Chasam Sofer (YD 356) states that though there is a tradition of Thirteen Principles of Faith, it is “hard for me to accept that belief in the Mashiach is one of them.” He argues that it does not represent something foundational such that if you don’t believe it, basic Jewish practices are undermined. (He does not quote it, but this echoes the Sefer Haikkarim who in the introduction defines a principle of faith as something essential to the fabric and structure of the Torah.) Chasam Sofer does affirm that belief in Mashiach is still important because it is promised in our sacred writings and therefore we must believe it. So he says disbelief in Mashiach still is tantamount to denying scripture, and belief in scripture is indeed foundational.

The entire Chasam Sofer might seem like a technicality since, in the end, not believing in Mashiach is tantamount to denying Torah. However, the difference seems to me that the Chasam Sofer does not codify the requirement to “await it or expect it every day,” at least not as a requirement to maintain a fundamental of faith.

In the daily Shemoneh Esrei we pray: “For Your deliverance we hope all day…” That is Nusach Ashkenaz. Nusach Sefard adds: “…and watch for Your deliverance.” Perhaps the additional phrase depends on how one stands in this dispute. If it is not a special requirement to anticipate Mashiach, then one phrase is enough, as it is part of expressing the wish and longing in the form of this prayer. The repetition may emphasize a mitzvah unto itself, and represent the Rambam’s position.

71 — Cutting Down the Ego: The Hard Work of Middos

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph references the verse (Devarim 16:19) that discusses the counting of the Omer and begins “from the time the sickle is first put to the standing grain.”

The choice of words to describe this time, “from the time the sickle is first put to the standing grain,” seems to hint at something. Likkutei Torah (Bamidbar 17) explains that the giving of the Torah is a repair of the original sin of Adam, which was with grain. In particular, the Omer offering is barley, reminiscent of a descent into animalistic desires. The counting, that is the preparation for the Torah, begins with a dramatic act—“cutting down the standing.” That means the cutting down of improper character traits (that can remain stubbornly fixed) and refining them and grinding them into fine flour.

Rav Yisroel Salanter says it’s easier to learn Shas than to change a middah. We can all agree how challenging it is. From a clinical perspective, many middos issues would be characterized as personality disorders. The challenge with personality disorders is that often the problematic pattern of behavior is not ego-dystonic but rather ego-syntonic. For example, a person who is depressed usually does not like it and finds it frustrating. But a person with certain personality traits or middos, because of that, might see the world through a distorted lens and therefore have a hard time perceiving the necessity of change or even the actual problematic manner of relating. For example, a rigid perfectionistic person might just see others as annoying and unreliable instead of recognizing his or her perfectionism as the problem. Even if he or she does recognize it, they might approach their process of growth and change with the same impatience and rigidity, which usually does not promote reflection and change.

This may be why there is a process of counting 49 days and how each day represents a focus on a particular manifestation of character. As we saw in our blog post for Psychology of the Daf Menachos 66a, the extensive process by which the flour for the Omer offering was prepared included sifting through thirteen sifters. These thirteen siftings might correspond to the thirteen attributes of God and therefore could be ways to refine human character to align with God’s merciful qualities. It takes hard work, time, and wisdom to change, but change is possible.

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