“If all the seas were black ink, and all the marshes quills, and the heavens were parchments, and all the people were scribes, they would not suffice to record the depth of the mind of the government.”

The above quote from today’s Daf could not be more timely. With the swirl of federal, state, local and foreign governments scrambling to keep up with the Coronavirus pandemic, we feel government’s presence in our lives in a way that was not true just two weeks ago. Bars and restaurant’s shut. People sheltering in place. Multiple news conferences a day. Blame thrown at multiple other governmental entities. The National Guard called to enforce a quarantine!

To be honest, I am not even sure what the quote means. There is no context. It does not follow from the material before it or flow to the material after it. I read three different translations and had no further clarity. Rashi believes that the statement means that the concerns of a government are so much broader and more complex than our concerns. Menachem Meiri believes it means that we should pray for the well-being of the government (which I do constantly these days) and not suspect it of wrongdoing (sorry, that ship sailed long ago). Another commentator argues that the passage means we should avoid dealings with the government (I wish I could identify the source, because I agree with this one the most). The Sfas Emes thinks that the passage means that no government can have the knowledge to run a country without the wisdom of God (God help us!).

To me, I think this passage really captures the bewilderingly large, complicated and ultimately unruly beast called government. I base this interpretation on the proof text quoted by the Talmud, Proverbs 25:3 (“Like the heavens in their height, like the earth in its depth, is the mind of kings – unfathomable.”) There is a Kafkaesque feel to the largeness and incomprehensibly complicated nature of government portrayed by this passage. Unfortunately, here in America, “we the people” are supposed to be the government. Somehow, the people and the government have become divorced from one another. We now see the government as external to us, rather than ourselves as a constituent of the government. We see the government as an obstacle, not as our collective organization and we continue to lose faith in our institutions.

Our Daf contains much about our relationship to our government. We start with some zoning regulations. We learn that synagogues should be the highest buildings in our towns. Ezra 9:9 says, “For bondsmen we are, though even in our bondage God has not forsaken us, but has disposed the king of Persia favorably toward us, to furnish us with sustenance and to raise again the House of our God, repairing its ruins and giving us a hold in Judah and Jerusalem.” The Rabbis interpret “raise again the House of our God” very literally and hold that the synagogue should be higher than our houses. Indeed, we learn that if we build our houses higher than our synagogues, our town will be destroyed.

Because this passage from Ezra talks about how the Persians were not terrible hegemons, the Rabbis create a hierarchy of overlords who they prefer and not prefer. Ishmalites (who I assume were Arabs) were considered better than Romans who were better than Chabarians (I think Zoroastrians near Persia). Torah scholars as masters are worse than all of these because we cannot possibly fulfill all of the requirements of respect due to a Torah scholar and we will be punished. Widows and orphans are the worst because we can so easily make them cry and subject ourselves to divine retribution.

From our discussion of our relationship to the government, we move to dreams. Specifically, we learn that a fast nullifies the omens of a bad dream. To be effective, however, we need to fast on the day of the dream (remember, the Jewish day starts the night before). We can even fast on Shabbat which runs counter to our requirement to enjoy Shabbat ( and Jews believe eating is enjoyment).

We then reconsider the end of our Mishnah which said that we do not need to interrupt Torah study for the Shemoneh Esrei at Minchah, but we do have to interrupt Torah study when it comes time to recite the Shema. The Rabbis limit this ruling to only professional Torah scholars, not amateur dilettantes like me. A further teaching tries to limit this exemption even further to be only applicable when Torah scholars were considering whether to add a leap month or not. (The Jewish calendar is very complicated. In old days, before printing and modern astronomy, Rabbis would meet and decide when a leap month was necessary to keep the calendar in sync with the seasons).

We introduce a new Mishnah. Previously, we talked about things we could not do shortly before Minchah. Now we look at things we cannot do shortly before Shabbat. The list is: (a) a tailor cannot go out with a needle; (b) a scribe cannot go out with a quill; (c) we cannot delouse a garment; (d) we cannot read by the light of a lamp; and (e) the Chazan (synagogue helper or director) can look at what Torah portion is being studied so he knows what will be read at services, but he cannot read the Torah portion. Oddly, there is an appendage to the Mishnah which provides that a Zav (man with gonorrheal discharge or other uncontrolled seminal emission) may not eat together with a Zavah (woman who has a discharge between menstrual periods). Apparently, dining together will lead to sin. I assume we will learn how in a later Daf.

Oddly, our Talmudic discourse on this Mishnah starts in a completely different place. We discuss whether we can lean from a private domain into a public domain and drink. I am not sure where that came from! We then ask whether we can stand in a Karmelis and drink in another domain. This later question is interesting. A Karmelis has no biblical standing. It is a creation of the Rabbis. We consider some semi-public areas as a Karmelis so we don’t err and carry accidentally from a public domain to a private domain. This is a rabbinic prohibition to keep us from violating a biblical prohibition. If we don’t allow leaning from a Karmelis to another domain to drink, we will be creating a rabbinic prohibition to safeguard another rabbinic prohibition. I don’t think we entirely answer this question today.

We then turn back to our Zav to discuss the laws of carrying on Shabbat. Zavs wore a pouch around their genitals to catch any emissions. If the pouch was not an article of clothing, then wearing it from one domain to another would be prohibited carrying on Shabbat. The Rabbis spend a great deal of today’s Daf trying to analogize the Zav’s pouch to other situations to determine if wearing the pouch on Shabbat is permitted or prohibited, and, if it is prohibited, whether it is a biblical prohibition or a rabbinic prohibition. I believe we will get the answer in a later Daf.

We also talk a lot about professionals and how they would advertise their services. For instance, carpenters would walk around with their rulers behind their ears to look for a commission. Of course, we need to determine if this is carrying or not. For some Rabbis, context is important. A carpenter who puts a ruler behind his ear is acting in an intentional, accepted way for carpenters. These Rabbis hold that this person is carrying and it is prohibited on Shabat. If I carried a ruler behind my ear, that would be abnormal. I would violate a rabbinic prohibition, but not a biblical prohibition. We also learn about tailors pinning their needles to their clothes, fullers (who made cloths fluffier) wearing cords behind their ears, weavers with stoppers behind their ears, dyers with swataches on their shoulders and momeychangers with coins behind their ears – all hawking their services. I found this a fascinating window into ancient economies and marketing practices.

Finally, I note that the Hebrew word for moneychanger (Schulchanee) comes from the Hebrew word for “table” because a moneychanger would do business behind a table. Our English word for “banker” comes from the Italian word for “table” for the same reason. Indeed, our word “bankrupt” comes from the Renaissance practice of physically breaking in two a failed banker’s table. Just some food for thought.