Discussion on the Daf - Eiruvin

naturalmom5

Fri, Sep 04 2020, 7:10 pm

Eruvin 26

Hezekiah was the king of Judah. And when he took ill, Isaiah recruited the Torah scholars of the time to come and learn at the door of his bedroom in the hopes it would lead to his recovery. This seems like an odd choice. First, Isaiah was a prophet and he knew that there was a heavenly decree that Hezekiah was going to die. Second, it seems strange to just move a Torah academy to the door of somebody’s bedroom.

The Gam however strongly disagreed

The Gemara concludes that studying Torah at Hezekiah’s door was the proper course of action. Yet the Gemara also notes that this may not in fact be advisable, as it is seen as tempting fate.

Today, we don’t typically bring a yeshiva to a person’s door when they are ill. But we do learn Torah on their behalf, since the study of Torah has always been thought to have a healing effect. As it says in Pirkei Avot: “Great is Torah for it gives life to those that practice it, in this world, and in the world to come.”

For many of us, the study of Daf Yomi has brought increased Torah into our lives at precisely the moment when many people in the world are in need of extra prayers for healing. May this increase in Torah bring complete healing to all that are in need of it.

imorethanamother

Mon, Sep 07 2020, 1:01 am

First of all, there are SO MANY times where I feel like I should give up here. I'm lucky if I understand what's happening in the moment, but if you'd quiz me on any of this, I'd be lucky if I even recognized the questions as things I've learned.

In other words, I'm barely following.

Anyway, I'm a daf behind, so yesterday's daf leads me to the very controversial mitzvos asei shehazman grama. I really do hate this whole section, because in my mind, this was an allowance for women based on other more important things they had to do. However, most people end up learning it as women shouldn't do it because there's something inherently wrong with us. Rabbi Lebowitz went into a whole discourse about why it is that moving men into the "women's section" in a shul is some kind of "yeridah", and honestly, I must not be understanding him fully because wow.

But what gets me most of all is the hypocrisy about how we view women's exceptions.

If I tell anyone that I"m learning daf yomi, in my yeshivish world I'd get a lot of side eye glances. So I don't tell anyone. And that's because it says that women are not mechuyav to learn Torah. Of course there's additional gemara sources but that's why women feel that they never have to daven with a minyan, that's why they don't have to daven or learn, period, etc.

And YET. It says in the exact same place that women are not obligated to have children, and yet you have to fight tooth and nail to get birth control permitted to you.

And that's what I don't get. Why the picking and choosing? We don't have to sit in a succah, and no Rav on earth will make you get a heter for that, and yet birth control is some hot topic. It says straight out that we don't have to have children. So why does it still seem to be someone's else's choice, in the end?

naturalmom5

Mon, Sep 07 2020, 12:53 pm

Eruvin 28

The Talmud tells us that in fact the young student had it right, not Rabbi Zeira. Because the green grain has not yet matured into actual grain, it doesn’t get the blessing over fruits of the ground. But the dodder, being fully mature, does get that blessing.

The context for this story is a larger conversation about what kinds of foods can be used to establish an eruv techumin, a special kind of eruv that extends the physical area beyond one’s home in which one can walk on Shabbat. The traditional laws of Shabbat prohibit walking too far from home, but you can extend how far you can walk by placing some food at a distance from home before Shabbat. Because food is associated with home, the food symbolically extends the radius of one’s “home.”

The question is whether foods that aren’t commonly eaten may be used for this purpose. Dodder and green grain aren’t the most recognizable foods, even for the rabbis. In fact, there’s a debate earlier on today’s daf about whether green grain, which was eaten in Babylonia but not elsewhere, should be universally permitted for the purpose of creating an erev tehumin. While they’re on the subject, the rabbis try to suss out which blessings are said on these two unusual plants.

In the end, Rabbi Zeira’s logic is refuted. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been taking a nap, as he would have learned the same lesson the young student learned that day. In a playful way, the Talmud is also reminding us that even obscure details are worthy of knowing, and that strangeness shouldn’t distance us from learning.

naturalmom5

Tue, Sep 08 2020, 5:10 pm

Eruvin 30

when the rabbis in Eruvin are ask whether to use the average size of a man, or the actual size of a particular man like Og, the difference is no small thing. Its necessary to make laws that account for the vast size differential between some human beings and others?

The Talmud explains that Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar’s ruling doesn’t apply to the laws of eruv. This is because in the case of a corpse in a house, there is no other option. A corpse can only be removed from a house without being desecrated if there is an opening large enough for it to pass through. But in the case of establishing an eruv with food, logistics do not actually require that the food be enough to sate a giant.

Where necessary, we take into account individual bodies and individual needs; but when it is logistically unnecessary, the average is just fine. Og might have been enormous, but we can theoretically establish an eruv for him without setting aside enough food for an army.

naturalmom5

Wed, Sep 09 2020, 9:58 pm

Eruvin 31

the Gemara asks, if we can’t trust certain people to construct an eruv properly, why can we trust them to deliver the food for an eruv?

The Gemara provides two answers. The first is that the mishnah was referring to a case where a person watches the food being delivered. In this view, you can send food by unreliable messenger only if you can see the delivery take place. The second answer is that there is a legal presumption that an agent fulfills their mission. As a general rule, we do not have to witness the delivery personally to be confident that it took place.

Why do the rabbis differentiate between the act of delivering the food and that of placing it to form the eruv? The former task in and of itself has no legal or ritual implications, so the rabbis allow those who may not fully understand what they are doing to complete it. But the act of placing the food to make an eruv operational does have significance in Jewish law, so it can only be delegated to someone the rabbis identify as a competent agent.

The rabbis push this point even further by referencing the teaching from which this distinction is derived:

If one gave food for an eruv to a trained elephant, and it brought it to the place where one wanted it to be deposited, or if one gave it to a monkey and it brought it to the proper location, it is not a valid eruv. But if one told another person to receive it from the animal, it is a valid eruv.

While it may be shocking to read that the rabbis placed deaf-mutes, imbeciles, and Jews who reject rabbinic authority in the same category as trained animals, the analogy provides some insight into how the rabbis thought about agency. When it comes to tasks that have legal or ritual significance, only those with the capacity to comprehend what they are doing are deemed appropriate and qualified

naturalmom5

Sun, Sep 13 2020, 12:26 am

Eruvin 34

If one put the eruv in a cupboard and locked it, and the key was lost, so that he is now unable to open the cupboard and access the eruv, it is nonetheless a valid eruv. Rabbi Eliezer says: If he does not know that the key is in its place, it is not a valid eruv.

According to the mishnah, if one is cut off from their eruv on Shabbat because it is locked in a cupboard to which the key has been lost, it remains a valid eruv. But Rabbi Eliezer disagrees. If the whereabouts of the key are unknown, the eruv is not a valid eruv.

The rabbis go on to debate the particulars of this case, and the Gemara records an opinion suggesting that the critical issue is where the key has been lost. If the key was lost in a city, the eruv remains valid. But if it was lost in a field, it doesn’t. The idea here is that if the key is lost in a city, one could still theoretically be able to bring the key to the cupboard by means of courtyards that have been joined together and within which it is permitted to carry. But in a field, that would be impossible, as it’s forbidden to carry an object in an open field on Shabbat. In the latter situation, the connection between the key and the cupboard holding the eruv has been broken.

In a sense, this is the rabbinic version of WiFi. The eruv is tethered to the person who placed it by an invisible connection. Stray too far, and the connection is lost. So it is with an eruv that is placed too high or too low, and so it is with people and God. We must maintain proximity to establish connection.

naturalmom5

Mon, Sep 14 2020, 8:42 am

Eruvin 36

If one of the sages coming from opposite directions was his teacher, he may go only to his teacher, as it is assumed that was his original intention. And if they were both his teachers, so that there is no reason to suppose that he preferred one over the other, he may go wherever he wishes.

What a great problem to have. On such a fortunate Shabbat that multiple scholars are coming to town, Rabbi Yehuda rules that you should prioritize going out to greet your own teacher. But if both the scholars on this particular weekend are your teachers, you can pick whomever you like.

The Gemara disagrees, but with some beautiful reasoning:

The rabbis maintain that sometimes one prefers to meet the sage who is his colleague rather than the sage who is his teacher, as sometimes one learns more from his peers than from his teachers.

Anyone who has ever studied with a havruta, or study partner, will recognize the truth of this statement. While one’s teacher is to be honored, it’s in the unvarnished, sometimes argumentative, and pugnacious back and forth with peers that true learning often emerges. As we learn in Pirkei Avot: “Who is wise? One who learns from every person.”

naturalmom5

Tue, Sep 15 2020, 1:04 pm

Eruvin 37

Can I get credit for that?” It’s a question you might have asked as a student or posed to your accountant during tax season. While we often do things intentionally, sometimes we seek credit for them only retroactively. This is the crux of the conversation on today’s daf.

Yesterday, we encountered a mishnah which taught that one could construct a conditional eruv. Basically, you set up two eruvim in two different locations before Shabbat, and then on Shabbat itself you can decide which of those two you wish to use. Today, the rabbis consider whether this principle of retroactive designation applies in all cases. Do you need to determine at the time you undertake an action the particular mitzvah it is intended to fulfill? Or can you decide after the fact?

The daf plays out various scenarios in which one might want to do this. Can you consume some wine that was not tithed and then decide later that the part left over counts for the tithing? What if two birds were brought to a priest for two types of sacrifices, but it wasn’t specified at the outset which bird was for which? In the latter case, one might imagine that if an animal is giving its life for a specific purpose, that would need to be specified at the outset. But the Talmud records the opinion of Rabbi Yosei, who was a bit flexible in this case and allowed the Temple priest to decide which bird should be used for which purpose.

naturalmom5

Tue, Sep 15 2020, 1:08 pm

Says the mishna

If a person were to declare, “I am hereby

establishing an eruv for the Shabbatot of the entire year, so that if I want to make use of it, I will be able to walk 2,000 cubits from the eruv, and if I do not want to do so, I will not walk.” If he wanted to make use of the eruv for a particular Shabbat while it was still day, his eruv is a valid eruv for that Shabbat. However, if he only decided after nightfall that he wanted the eruv to be in effect, the tanna’im disagree: Rabbi Shimon says: His eruv is a valid eruv; and the rabbis say: His eruv is not a valid eruv.

In this case, someone wants to establish a permanent eruv and then decide on each particular Shabbat if they wish to make use of it. If the person made the designation during the day, there’s no dispute the eruv is a valid one. But if he waits until later to decide, the rabbis disagree. And there the matter rests, with no broad agreement about whether the retroactive principle can be universally applied.

It’s in the nature of rabbinic discussion to leave certain questions unanswered,

the Gemara concludes that whichever position you do adopt on this question, you need to stick with it. As we’ve seen already in Tractate Eruvin, consistency is a requirement.

Rav Yosef holds that one who accepts the principle of retroactive designation accepts it in all cases; there is no difference between Torah law and rabbinic decrees. And one who does not accept the principle of retroactive designation does not accept it at all; there is no difference between Torah law and rabbinic decrees.

Sometimes it seems that the rabbis of the Talmud lack flexibility in their interpretation of Jewish law, while other times the laws are quite malleable. But this call for consistency instills a sense of confidence in the overarching Jewish legal system

naturalmom5

Wed, Sep 16 2020, 12:31 pm

Eruvin 38

Here’s a talmudic riddle: When is a person like both a donkey driver and a camel driver? When one deposits food to establish an eruv for a festival that falls adjacent to Shabbat.

Get it? I didn’t either the first few times. Like many talmudic aphorisms, this one requires some explanation.

Normally, the rabbis permit travel up to 2,000 cubits from your town’s border. But if you place some food somewhere within that distance, you establish a symbolic residence that permits travelling an additional 2,000 cubits from that spot on Shabbat.

How does this work? Imagine a circle with a radius of 2,000 cubits with a town in its center. On Shabbat, one is allowed to travel from the town 2,000 cubits to any point on the circle. Now, imagine a second circle whose center is a point on the circumference on the first circle. This second circle represents the eruv techumin.

Once established, the eruv symbolically shifts your place of residence from the center of circle 1 to the center of circle 2, allowing you to travel an additional 2,000 cubits in any direction from where you placed the food. The only catch is, when using an eruv techumin, you are no longer able to utilize sections of your town’s standard travel zone (circle 1) that are outside of your personal eruv (circle 2).

The answer depends on whether those two days are considered one sacred event or two. If it’s the former, the eruv would remain operative for both days, as the two days are considered to be one. But if it’s the latter, the eruv would only function for the duration of the first day. The second day would require an eruv of its own.

The rabbis can’t arrive at a clear answer here. So Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi rules stringently:

If one established an eruv by depositing food in the place he wished to establish as his residence, and his eruv was eaten on the first day, one may not rely on it and one may not go out beyond the limit permitted to the rest of the inhabitants of the town on the second day.

Because the eruv may no longer be operative on the second day, one cannot utilize it to travel beyond the borders of the regular Shabbat boundary (circle 1). But because the eruv might be operative on the second day, it’s possible one could only travel within its boundaries (circle 2) on the second day. One of those circles represents a valid eruv on the second day, we just don’t know which is which. Therefore, Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi rules that one should only travel in the overlapping area shared by both circles on the second day.

In response to this ruling, Rabbi Yehuda (not Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi, but a different Rabbi Yehuda) observes: A person in this situation is both a donkey driver and a camel driver.

Rabbi Yehuda is using an idiom from his day to describe a person pulled in two different directions. A donkey driver walks behind his animals while a camel driver leads from the front. The eruv builder in this case is pulled in one direction by the naturally existing eruv around the town and pushed from another by the eruv he established himself.

naturalmom5

Thu, Sep 17 2020, 9:52 pm

Before the advent of a fixed calendar, the start of each month was determined by the testimony of two witnesses who saw the new moon in the sky, indicating a new month had begun. If witnesses arrived on the 30th day of a month and declared they had seen the moon the previous night, that day would be declared the first day of the new month. But if they didn’t appear on the 30th, the following day would be declared the first day of the new month.

As a result, Rosh Hashanah could be observed for one day in some years and for two days in others. Rosh Hashanah would always be observed on the 30th day of the month of Elul. If witnesses arrived on that day, it would be declared to actually be the first day of the following month, Tishrei, and Rosh Hashanah would be only one day that year. But if they didn’t arrive on the 30th, Rosh Hashanah would be extended into the following day, which would then be the first of Tishrei.

The mishnah is discusses the concept of a conditional eruv, of the sort we first encountered in Eruvin 36. If Rosh Hashanah is two days in a given year, Rabbi Yehuda says you can place an eruv in two locations and decide that one is operative on one day and the other on the second day. But the majority do not accept this, ruling that one may not separate the days of Rosh Hashanah in this manner, as they are one continuously sacred event.

The Gemara tells us that the case in the mishnah is one in which witnesses arrive on the 30th day of Elul, but after the time for testifying has passed. In this instance, everyone agrees that their testimony is invalid and Rosh Hashanah is observed for another day. The disagreement is over whether a conditional eruv could be established in such a case.

One opinion holds that the extension of Rosh Hashanah into an additional day that we know to be a weekday (because the witness testimony is accurate, even though it is ignored) is evidence that both days are a single sacred event. Therefore, it is forbidden to establish a separate eruv for each day.

The other holds that the sanctification of the 30th day of Elul is done to protect the sanctity of Rosh Hashanah in a year when it is observed for just one day. Given the yearly fluctuations, people might come to violate the first day, expecting there to be a second one that is truly the holiday. But this assumption might lead to a desecration of the holiday when it actually falls on the first day. To avoid that, the first day is sanctified even when it is simply the 30th of Elul, suggesting that the sanctity of the first day is distinct from the second and that multiple eruvim should be allowed.

The Gemara does not reach a clear conclusion on this question. We’ll take a deep dive into these matters when we get to Tractate Rosh Hashanah in about a year

naturalmom5

Mon, Sep 21 2020, 7:09 pm

Eruvin 42

Would you love to take a boat trip but wonder if it’s OK to continue travel on Shabbat? The rabbis on today’s daf had that exact same question.

It begins with an incident recorded in a mishnah on yesterday’s page in which several sages were on a boat on Shabbat. The mishnah tells us that two of them, Rabbi Gamliel and Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria, walked around the entire boat on Shabbat, but that two others, Rabbi Akivah and Rabbi Yehoshua, did not, restricting their movements to an area of four cubits. In Jewish law, four cubits is the area of someone’s personal space, so Rabbi Akivah and Rabbi Yehoshua were effectively saying a person should not move at all beyond their personal area on a boat on Shabbat.

On today’s daf, the Gemara brings this story to bear on a question we’ve been dealing with for many pages now — how far is one permitted to travel on Shabbat? As we’ve seen, it is forbidden to travel more than 2,000 cubits from your residence on Shabbat. On today’s daf, the rabbis entertain the question of whether this limit also applies if someone is traveling on a boat. A boat is clearly going to travel more than 2,000 cubits. However the Talmud tells us that this is nevertheless permitted.

naturalmom5

Tue, Sep 22 2020, 3:30 pm

Eruvin 44

With regard to one who was permitted to leave his Shabbat limit, they said to him along the way: The action has already been performed, and there is no need for you to travel for that purpose, he has 2,000 cubits in each direction from the location where he was standing when this was told to him. If he was within his original limit, it is considered as if he had not left his limit, and he may return to his original location. The Sages formulated a principle: All who go out to battle and save lives may return to their original locations on Shabbat.

This mishnah needs some unpacking. First of all, why was the person permitted to leave the Shabbat limit in the first place?

Rashi explains that the mishnah is talking about someone who was heading out to do a critically important communal service, such as witnessing the new moon or saving someone’s life. It’s easy to understand why it would be permissible for a person to violate the laws of Shabbat to save a life. Jewish law privileges saving a life over almost everything, a principle known as pikuach nefesh. But why would witnessing the new moon excuse straying beyond one’s Shabbat limit?

To understand this, we must remember that the Jewish calendar is lunar. Each new month begins with the new cycle of the moon. While today we have a set calendar, in ancient times, the rabbis relied upon witnesses who saw the new moon to declare the official beginning of a month and determine when various Jewish holidays ought to be observed. Witnessing the new moon was therefore critical to enabling the community to remain united in its observance of the Torah. In that way, establishing the new month maintained communal life just as saving a person maintained human life.

Now, in our mishnah, the Jew on a mission is stopped along the way because the deed they set out to do has already been done. The question is, can that person now go home? It’s one thing to suspend the laws of Shabbat to serve a critical need, but if the need no longer exists, why let the person break Shabbat? The mishnah establishes that the 2,000 cubit distance one is allowed to travel on Shabbat resets when our do-gooder finds out that the mission is no longer necessary. So the person need not wait until after Shabbat to travel home, but can travel 2,000 cubits to get back.

What the rabbis are saying here is that fulfilling a critical communal service is so important that we do not want to make a person think twice about doing so. They don’t want people to refrain from heading out to perform such a service because they’re unsure if the need still exists, or because they might get stuck someplace far from home if it doesn’t. The rabbis did not want anything to get in the way of a person who seeks to serve the community in its hour of need. If you set out on a critical mission, the law will protect you even if you don’t get to fulfill it.

naturalmom5

Wed, Sep 23 2020, 12:00 pm

Eruvin 45

The demanding pace of Daf Yomi sometimes makes it hard to notice the seams between the layers of rabbinic literature. But the juxtaposition of two teachings on today’s daf provides an opportunity to pause and take notice.

The mishnah tells us of a rabbinic dispute in a case where someone was caught out of town when Shabbat begins and only notices after nightfall that there is a town nearby. According to Rabbi Meir, such a person is forbidden from entering the town on Shabbat because they had not intended to establish a residence there on Shabbat. Rabbi Yehuda disagrees and says the person is allowed to enter the town. He bases this opinion on precedent: Rabbi Tarfon, a leading sage of an earlier generation, was once in such a situation and entered the town on Shabbat even though he had no prior intention of establishing his Shabbat residence there.

naturalmom5

Thu, Sep 24 2020, 12:28 pm

Eruvin 45

It was taught in a baraita that Rabbi Yehuda said: It once happened that Rabbi Tarfon was walking along the way on Shabbat eve, and night fell upon him, and he spent the night outside the town. In the morning, cowherds who came to graze their cattle outside the town found him and said to him: Master, the town is before you; enter. He entered and sat in the study hall and taught the entire day. This indicates that one is permitted to enter.

The other rabbis said to Rabbi Yehuda: Do you bring proof from there? Perhaps he had it in mind the day before to acquire residence in the city, or perhaps the study hall was subsumed within his Shabbat limit.

The fuller version of the story demonstrates that Rabbi Tarfon did not intend to establish a residence in the town on Shabbat -- after all, he went to bed outside the town. And it implies that he was not aware of the town’s proximity until the cowherds pointed it out. These details make clear that Rabbi Tarfon was in the same situation we find in the mishnah. The expanded story supports the opinion of Rabbi Yehuda.

But the final section of the baraita casts doubt on this by citing two alternate explanations. Perhaps Rabbi Tarfon had in fact intended to establish his residence in the town on Shabbat. Or perhaps the study hall was within the 2,000 cubit limit one is permitted to travel outside a town on Shabbat. In bringing these alternate explanations, the baraita ultimately weakens Rabbi Yehuda’s position by undermining the precedent that supports it.

It is traditionally believed the baraitas date from the period after the Mishnah was codified and help to clarify mishnaic teachings or present different resolutions to rabbinic disputes. But recent scholarship has begun to suggest that baraitas actually pre-date the Mishnah. If that is the case, we would read this passage of Talmud rather differently.

Rather than adding details to explain Rabbi Yehuda’s use of the Rabbi Tarfon anecdote to support his position, a pre-mishnaic baraita would suggest that the fuller version of the story was known in rabbinic circles. The mishnah could leave out the details because the rabbis were capable of filling them in for themselves. The absence of the last section in the mishnah, which records the dissenters from Rabbi Yehuda’s view, would then be revealed as an editorial choice: the editor of the Mishnah favored Rabbi Yehuda’s position and left out arguments that would undermine it.

naturalmom5

Thu, Sep 24 2020, 12:33 pm

Eruvin 46

In European history, the phrase “exploding diets” refers to the situation when each member of the Polish legislature had veto power over the body’s actions, leading to governmental atrophy, vulnerability to predatory neighbors, and ultimately the dismemberment of the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth. Exploding diets are a cautionary tale about the consequences of hamstringing legislative rules.

Fortunately, on today’s daf, we get some more helpful instruction about the mechanics of legal decision making.

Rabba bar bar Ḥana said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Wherever you find that a single authority is lenient with regard to a certain halakha and several other authorities are stringent, the halakha is in accordance with the words of the stringent authorities, who constitute the majority, except for here, where despite the fact that the opinion of Rabbi Akiva is lenient and the opinion of the rabbis is more stringent, the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Akiva.

For a bit of context, yesterday’s daf had the rabbis debating a lenient opinion on an eruv question. Today, they find themselves in a wider discussion about majority rule in Jewish law. In trying to determine the general principles about when the halakha follows the majority and when it doesn’t, the Gemara relates a tradition about the laws of mourning.

If someone received a report that one of their close relatives died, the majority of rabbis say that they should observe both the intense seven-day period of mourning (known as shiva) and the customs of the 30-day mourning period, regardless of when the report was received. But Rabbi Akiva takes a more lenient view, ruling that this is true only if the report arrives within 30 days of the relative’s death. If it comes later, only one day of mourning is observed.

According to Rabbi Yohanan, Rabbi Akiva’s lenient take wins out over the more stringent opinion, even though we generally follow the rule of the majority. Why is that, exactly? The Gemara continues:

It is only with regard to mourning practices that the sages were lenient, but in general, with regard to other areas of halakha, even in the case of rabbinic laws there is a difference between a disagreement of a single authority with a single authority and a disagreement of a single authority with several authorities.

The Gemara doesn’t tell us what’s special about the laws of mourning that we disregard the views of the majority. But it does reaffirm what we know from various other places in the Talmud: In general, when there is disagreement between one rabbi and many rabbis, the law follows the opinion of the many. This is true even if a voice calls out from heaven and endorses the minority view, as we’ll see in a famous story in Tractate Bava Metzia

naturalmom5

Fri, Oct 02 2020, 5:09 pm

Eruvin 47

On today’s daf, the Gemara interrogates this peculiarity, asking where Rav Mesharshiya got the chutzpah to openly reject what appears to be a clear system of rules for halakhic decision making?

The Talmud tries to answer this question by citing several cases in which the way the law was decided appears to contradict this system -- in effect, validating Rav Mesharshiya’s claim that these principles are not in fact followed. One such case relates directly to the main topic of Tractate Eruvin: Someone left their house without establishing an eruv, travelled to another town, took up residence there over Shabbat, but did not create an eruv in the shared courtyard of their new home.

According to Rabbi Meir, because this traveler hasn’t participated in the building of an eruv with his neighbors, nobody can carry through the courtyard on Shabbat. Several other rabbis disagree with Rabbi Meir, among them Rabbi Shimon. The Gemara then records this teaching, which seems to settle the matter:

Rav Ḥama bar Gurya said that Rav said: The halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Shimon. And who disagrees with him? It is Rabbi Yehuda.

Rav’s teaching resolves the dispute in favor of Rabbi Shimon, even though we learned on yesterday’s page that the law should be in accordance with Rabbi Yehuda’s position in cases where he disagrees with Rabbi Shimon. This would then seem like a potential support for Rav Mesharshiya’s argument that those principles aren’t relied on.

But the Gemara rejects this proof. The decision making guidelines only apply in cases of an unresolved dispute where the halakhah isn’t explicitly stated. But in this case, the law was stated -- thanks to Rav, we know that the law follows Rabbi Shimon. So this case can’t be understood as support for Rav Mesharshiya.

The rabbis continue to look for support for Rav Mesharshiya’s position in cases where the law doesn’t appear to follow the rules, but in each of them they find logical reasons for the exceptions. Ultimately, Rav Mesharhiya’s argument is deemed unsuccessful. So what then do we do with his puzzling assertion that the principles can’t be relied upon?

The Talmud assumes this wasn’t actually what Rav Mesharshiya meant. What he meant was that the principles weren’t relied upon by everyone.

It’s a small moment of moderation and diversity of thought where we see how the Talmud understands its own system of decision-making and seeks to resolve apparent contradictions.