With today’s Daf and half of tomorrow’s we conclude our review of how the basest, most scatological of our bodily functions affects our ability to pray. The reading can be tedious given the endless debates of how fresh excrement must be to prohibit prayer in its vicinity or how far we must be from fresh excrement to pray. Alternatively, we can react with a sophomoric glee – kind of like when I was a kid and I got a Cheech and Chong album and there was a skit about encountering a substance and wondering if it was dog shit or not. To put these debates in context we need to keep two important facts in mind. First, we live in a far more hygienic age when we take indoor plumbing and clean water for granted, but that was not the human condition for thousands and thousands of years (nor is it the condition of much of the rest of the world today). In the time of the Talmud, people encountered human and animal waste on a much more routine basis. Second, the Rabbis are showing how any action or circumstance, no matter how distasteful and base, can be elevated to an opportunity to serve God if we follow God’s rules. As today’s Daf states, “The Torah was not given to the ministering angels.” We are human and we have to deal with the realities (even the distasteful realities) of being human.

We begin with a discussion of what to do if we enter a latrine wearing our tefillin. In the previous Daf, we discussed what to do if we entered a latrine carrying our tefillin. Now we want to know what to do if we forget to take the tefillin off before we enter the latrine. We get into some excruciating detail as to how far we are in to our bowel movement to come up for rules on how to behave. We then move to discuss whether or not we can recite the Shema in a stinky place, a debate that in part depends on whether we are passing through or are stationary. There is a discussion of how stale excrement or urine can be before we can recite the Shema in front of it. I want to emphasize that the discussion continues for such a length and in such detail that it indicates that the Rabbis saw this as a serious and relevant concern.

We then turn back to the dilemma of being naked in the Mikveh when it comes time to recite the Shema. We have debates about whether water is an adequate cover for our nakedness and, even if it is, does it matter that our heart is not separated from our naked genitalia. Does it matter if the water is clear or cloudy? We know we cannot say the Shema in front of a naked Jew, but what about a naked idolater (who are compared to donkeys) (we cannot say the Shema in front of a naked idolater). We also learn all kinds of rules about praying in a room with a chamber pot (which could be relevant when we are hospitalized).

As I said, we have about half a Daf to go of this topic. If you think none of this is relevant, I will share a gross detail of my own life (stop reading if you don’t care!). I have a dog that refuses to pee outside when it is raining. The dog sneaks into my carpeted closet during storms and pees there. We have tried all sorts of ways to prevent this occurrence, but occasionally we forget and Lolly pees on our carpet in our closet. There are some disgusting pee stains that will not come out. If I want or need to say the Shema in my closet (perhaps during a hurricane), can I since there is a canine urine stain on my carpet? At least now I know where to turn for an answer.