The Gemara in Shabbat, dedicated by Benjamin Stavrash for a complete recovery for all the sick of Israel, and in memory of Shimon ben Julia, may the spirit of the Lord guide him to the Garden of Eden. Amen.
We begin on page 114, at the bottom of page 113. Rabbi Aḥa bar Abba said in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan: How do we know that there is an עניין, a principle, of changing one’s clothing in honor of Shabbat, or in honor of God? In general, honoring God means wearing proper clothing. The Gemara brings a proof from the service of the Kohen.
When the Kohen removes the ashes from the altar, he wears one set of clothing. Afterward, when he returns to the regular service, he changes into another set of clothing. The Torah says that he removes his garments and puts on other garments before removing the ashes. Why must he wear inferior clothing for this task? The Gemara explains that removing the ashes is not as important a service as the services of eating and drinking, such as the burning of the incense and the pouring of the wine libation. Those services are like setting the table before the Creator. Since he is serving the Holy One, blessed be He, it is not appropriate to wear the same clothing used for removing the ashes.
From here, the school of Rabbi Ishmael teaches us a lesson in proper conduct: The clothing in which one cooks should not be the clothing in which one serves one’s master. The clothing used for cooking becomes dirty. One changes into different clothing before serving the master. We therefore see that the Torah itself places importance on honorable clothing when one serves the Holy One, blessed be He. In our context, this teaches the importance of changing one’s clothing in honor of Shabbat.
Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba said in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan that it is disgraceful for a Torah scholar to go out in clothing that has patches on it. A Torah scholar must maintain a certain standard of dress in public. We do not want people to see a rabbi walking around in clothing that is torn and patched, because that can cause a desecration of God’s name. The Gemara explains that the statement refers to clothing so torn that one needs to place one patch over another patch. That is disgraceful for a Torah scholar. A single patch, however, is acceptable.
Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba further said in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan that if a Torah scholar has a greasy stain on his clothing, he is liable for death. The word used in the Gemara refers to fat or grease from food. Why is the punishment so severe? Once again, the issue is the impression created in the eyes of the public. The verse says, “All who hate Me love death.” Do not read it as “those who hate Me”; read it as “those who cause others to hate Me.” A Torah scholar whose clothing is dirty causes people to develop a negative impression of the Torah.
People will say, “Woe to those who study Torah. Look at how repulsive and disorderly they are.” In this way, the scholar makes himself repulsive in the eyes of the public, and the public comes to despise the Torah. Rashi explains that the stain is one of grease or fat, perhaps from meat being prepared or rendered. A Torah scholar is supposed to be dignified and proper in honor of the Torah.
The rabbis of Novardok understood this passage differently. They held that a Torah scholar should not necessarily dress in a particularly fancy manner, but he must go out looking proper. He should have a suitable hat, an umbrella when needed, and respectable clothing. When they were asked about the Gemara’s statement concerning a greasy stain, they explained that the Gemara may be read as saying that if a Torah scholar has only one such stain on his clothing, he is liable for death. In their view, even one stain is already too much.
Another reading in the Gemara uses a different word, referring to a stain of seminal fluid. According to that version, there is a distinction between the outer garment and the inner garment. If the stain is on the outer garment, even a grease stain is disgraceful, because everyone can see it. If it is on the inner garment, people will not notice an ordinary grease stain, but a stain of seminal fluid is still repulsive. Other authorities understand that even a grease stain on the outer garment is unacceptable, while a stain on the inner garment is problematic only when it is of the more serious kind.
Rashi explains that the outer garment must be completely clean. The discussion is therefore not uniform in every case. There is a difference between the outer garment and the inner garment, between a grease stain and a stain of seminal fluid, and between one patch and a patch placed over another patch.
The Gemara then says: Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba said in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan, “What is the meaning of the verse, ‘As my servant Isaiah walked naked and barefoot for three years’?” Could Isaiah really have walked for three years without clothing and without shoes? The Gemara explains that “naked” means that his clothing was worn out, and “barefoot” means that his shoes were patched and worn out.
We find a related discussion in the Mishnah in Mikvaot, concerning immersion and an intervening substance. If a saddle placed on a donkey has a stain of oil, fat, or grease, the stain is considered an interruption to immersion because people are particular about such a stain. Whenever a person is particular about a substance, it constitutes an interruption.
Rabban Shimon ben Gamaliel says that the stain must be of a certain size, comparable to the size of a coin. With regard to clothing, however, if the stain is visible on only one side, it does not constitute an interruption, because people are generally not particular about that. If the substance penetrates the garment and is visible on both sides, it does constitute an interruption, because most people are particular about such a stain. Rabbi Yehuda says in the name of Rabbi Ishmael that even a stain visible on only one side constitutes an interruption.
Rashi explains that anything about which a person is particular constitutes an interruption in the laws of immersion. The Gemara brings this Mishnah because it provides a parallel to the discussion of the clothing of Torah scholars. The Mishnah mentions the clothing of ordinary people, and the Gemara asks who those people are and how their level of concern about their clothing relates to the clothing of Torah scholars.
The Gemara discusses a saddle and asks whether the stain must be visible on one side or on both sides. The answer is that the ruling concerning clothing on one side was stated regarding the clothing of the “builders.” Who are the builders? They are the Torah scholars, because they build the world through their Torah study. They are particular about even a stain visible on one side. The ruling concerning both sides applies to ordinary people, who are not as particular about their clothing.
Once we know that Torah scholars are particular about their clothing even when a stain is visible on only one side, while ordinary people are particular only when it is visible on both sides, we can infer the law concerning the saddle. The saddle is not more important than the clothing of ordinary people. Therefore, if the stain must be visible on both sides for the clothing of ordinary people, the same is true of the saddle.
Rabbi Yoḥanan gives a different interpretation of the word “builders.” These are people who are occupied all their days with building the world. What is the building of the world? The study of Torah. The simple explanation is that Torah keeps the world in existence, and through their learning, Torah scholars participate in the world’s continued construction.
There is another explanation. The world requires two dimensions of construction. First, there is the physical existence of the world. Second, there is the proper functioning of society. Torah scholars contribute to both. Torah sustains the physical world, and it also teaches people proper conduct so that society can function appropriately.
This is why they are called builders. They build the world through the study of Torah and through the proper conduct that Torah teaches. The Gemara then discusses returning a lost object. If a person recognizes his object, it may be returned to him based on his recognition, even without the usual identifying mark. The question is: What is the status of a person who is trusted merely because he recognizes his object?
The Gemara answers that this refers to someone who is careful about his clothing. If he puts his garment on inside out, he does not leave it that way. In earlier times, the difference might have been only that the stitching was visible. Many people would say, “What difference does it make?” But this person is particular about it. He does not want to wear the garment improperly because it detracts from his dignity.
This teaches that the conduct of a Torah scholar is to be particular about his clothing. We previously explained the word “measure,” which refers to a person’s character traits. The word is connected to the idea of a garment, because a garment has measurements: the sleeves must be cut to a certain length, and the waist must be cut to a certain size. Character traits also have a measure.
People are not born with perfect character traits. A person may be born with difficult or imperfect traits, and the work of a human being is to change those traits. The Vilna Gaon says that this is the purpose of a person’s life. Rabbi Yisrael Salanter said that it is easier to learn the entire Talmud than to change even one small character trait.
A Torah scholar is therefore required not only to study the entire Talmud, but also to work on changing his character. Who is a Torah scholar? One answer is: someone who is particular about his garment and turns it right side out. The Gemara is not speaking only about the physical garment. It is teaching that a Torah scholar is particular about his character traits and works to turn them around. If he has a bad nature, he works on changing it.
The Gemara then says that a Torah scholar who is worthy of being appointed as a communal leader is someone from whom people can ask a question on any subject, and he can answer them—even in a minor tractate such as Massechet Kallah. The simple explanation is that Massechet Kallah is a remote tractate that most people do not study. Thus, the Gemara praises a scholar who is so fluent in Torah that he can answer even a question from a tractate that is rarely studied.
Other commentators, including Tosafot, point out that Massechet Kallah is not necessarily mentioned as a difficult tractate. Elsewhere, the Gemara discusses a woman who says that she will marry a Torah scholar and asks what minimum knowledge qualifies a person as a Torah scholar. The answer there is that even knowledge of Massechet Kallah can be sufficient. According to that approach, the mention of Massechet Kallah is not necessarily praise for exceptional mastery; it may refer to the minimum level of knowledge that qualifies someone as a Torah scholar.
Rashi explains that the statement means that the scholar knows all of the Talmud and has not skipped anything, even Massechet Kallah. The tractate begins with the principle that a bride without a blessing is forbidden to her husband like a menstruant woman. That is how Rashi explains why this tractate is mentioned.
The Gemara gives another definition of a Torah scholar: one whom the people of his city are obligated to support. This is someone who sets aside his business and occupies himself with the needs of Heaven and the needs of the community. Since he leaves his work in order to serve the community, the community must support him.
This does not mean that the community must provide him with luxuries. It must provide him with the minimum necessary for him to live. The people must at least give him bread and the basic necessities of life. They do not have to give him more than that, but they must provide enough for him to sustain himself while he occupies himself with communal and spiritual needs.
Rashi connects this idea to a discussion in the tractate Yoma. One verse says, “You shall make an ark of wood,” which appears to command Moses personally to make the ark. Another verse says, “They shall make an ark,” in the plural, which appears to command the Jewish people to make it. How can both verses be understood?
The answer is that Moses was personally commanded to make the ark, while the Jewish people were commanded to support Moses in doing his work. One verse refers to Moses’s own task, and the other refers to the obligation of the community to enable him to perform it. The same applies to a Torah scholar who sets aside his business to serve the community: the community must support him.
Rabbi Yoḥanan gives another definition of a Torah scholar: one who can be asked a question of Jewish law in any place and can answer it. The Gemara asks what practical difference this definition makes. The answer is that it determines the position for which he is qualified.
If he knows the tractate that he is currently studying and can answer questions in that tractate, he may be appointed as a local leader in that place. If he knows the entire Talmud and can answer questions even in a tractate that he is not currently studying, then he is qualified to become the head of a yeshivah.
This appears to be a different standard from the earlier statement. Earlier, the Gemara said that a communal leader must be able to answer questions anywhere, even in Massechet Kallah. Here, it says that someone who knows only the tractate he is studying may be a local leader, while someone who knows the entire Talmud may become the head of a yeshivah. Perhaps the earlier statement is referring specifically to appointing a head of a yeshivah. If so, there is no contradiction: the scholar must be able to answer anywhere, even in a tractate he is not studying.
Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish returns to the word “builders” and offers a different explanation. Perhaps it does not refer to Torah scholars at all. It may come from the word for a bathhouse. “Builders” may refer to the garments used in a bathhouse—the towels or other garments given to people when they leave the bathhouse.
These garments were considered important garments, brought from overseas. Distinguished people would wrap themselves in them when leaving the bathhouse, and they were particular that the garments should not have stains. Therefore, even a stain visible on one side would constitute an interruption.
The Gemara then discusses Rabbi Yannai’s instructions to his children: Do not bury me in white garments, and do not bury me in black garments. Why not white? Perhaps I will not merit to sit in the Garden of Eden and will instead be in Gehinnom, where everyone will be wearing black while I am wearing white. That would be embarrassing, like a groom sitting among mourners.
Why not black? Perhaps I will merit the Garden of Eden, while everyone else is wearing white and I am wearing black. Then I would be like a mourner among grooms. Rabbi Yannai therefore says that he should be buried in garments that are neither white nor black.
The Gemara concludes that these garments were red. It then asks how this can be reconciled with the earlier discussion, where the garments used in the bathhouse appeared to be white. The answer is that there were two types of garments: the outer garment was red, while the inner garment was white. Rashi explains that people are particular about a stain on a white garment, while a red garment may be less sensitive to the appearance of a stain. The outer and inner garments therefore have different standards.
We now return to the discussion of the fats of sacrifices when Yom Kippur follows or precedes Shabbat. According to Rabbi Ishmael, the fats of the Shabbat offering may continue to be burned on Yom Kippur. However, if Yom Kippur is on Friday, the fats of the Yom Kippur offering may not be burned on Shabbat.
Rabbi Akiva disagrees. According to him, the fats of Shabbat may not be burned on Yom Kippur, and the fats of Yom Kippur may not be burned on Shabbat. Shabbat and Yom Kippur are equal in this regard. Everyone agrees that the fats of Yom Kippur may not be burned on Shabbat. The dispute concerns whether the fats of Shabbat may be burned on Yom Kippur.
To make the cases clear: If Shabbat is followed by Yom Kippur, Rabbi Ishmael permits the fats of Shabbat to be burned on Yom Kippur, while Rabbi Akiva prohibits it. If Yom Kippur is followed by Shabbat, everyone prohibits burning the fats of Yom Kippur on Shabbat. Rabbi Ishmael’s reasoning is that Shabbat is more stringent: desecrating Shabbat carries a penalty of stoning, whereas desecrating Yom Kippur carries the penalty of excision. Therefore, the fats of Shabbat may be burned on the less stringent day, Yom Kippur, but the fats of Yom Kippur may not be burned on Shabbat.
Normally, the fats of sacrifices were burned at night. Any fats left over from the previous day could continue to be burned. The question is whether the leftover fats from the Shabbat offerings may be burned on Yom Kippur. This is not a question of bringing a new Shabbat offering on Yom Kippur. A Shabbat offering cannot be brought on Yom Kippur. The discussion concerns only the leftover fats that had already been offered and were awaiting burning.
The Gemara begins with the verse, “The burnt offering of Shabbat on its Shabbat.” The repetition of “Shabbat” teaches that the fats of a Shabbat offering may be burned on another day that is also called Shabbat, namely Yom Kippur. The Gemara then considers the opposite possibility: perhaps the fats of Yom Kippur may also be burned on Shabbat.
The additional wording limits the teaching. According to Rabbi Ishmael, the limitation should apply to the more stringent case. Since Shabbat is more stringent than Yom Kippur, the verse teaches that the fats of Shabbat may be burned on Yom Kippur, but the fats of Yom Kippur may not be burned on Shabbat.
Rashi explains the practical case: the limbs and fats of the regular Shabbat offering may be placed on the altar on Saturday night, even when Saturday night is Yom Kippur. The verse teaches that the fats of one Shabbat offering may be burned on another Shabbat-like day. It does not teach that the fats of Yom Kippur may be burned on Shabbat.
Rabbi Akiva reads the verse differently. The phrase “the burnt offering of Shabbat on its Shabbat” teaches that the fats of a Shabbat offering may be burned on a festival, because a festival is also called Shabbat. For example, if a festival follows Shabbat, the fats of the Shabbat offering may be burned on the festival. Perhaps Yom Kippur should also be included, but the verse limits the ruling and excludes Yom Kippur.
What is the basis of the dispute? Rabbi Ishmael holds that offerings brought voluntarily, such as vows and freewill offerings, may be brought on a festival even though they do not have a fixed time. If an offering without a fixed time may be brought on a festival, then certainly the fats of a Shabbat offering, whose time had already arrived, may be burned on a festival. Rabbi Ishmael therefore does not need a special verse to teach that Shabbat fats may be burned on a festival. The verse is needed to teach the more novel case: that Shabbat fats may be burned on Yom Kippur.
Rabbi Akiva, however, holds that vows and freewill offerings may not be brought on a festival. Therefore, he does need a verse to teach that the fats of a Shabbat offering may be burned on a festival. The verse teaches only that case, and not that the fats of Shabbat may be burned on Yom Kippur.
Rabbi Zeira relates that while he was still in Babylonia, he understood a certain teaching about Yom Kippur as applying according to all opinions. The teaching concerns the blasts that were sounded in the Temple to announce the approach of Shabbat or another sacred day.
In earlier times, blasts were sounded on Friday to inform people that Shabbat was approaching. Those working in the fields would return, work would stop, and food would be removed from the fire. The blasts marked the transition from the weekday to the sacred day. In general, blasts were sounded when moving from an ordinary level of holiness to a higher level of holiness, and when moving from holiness to the weekday.
If Yom Kippur fell on Friday, however, they did not sound the blasts from Yom Kippur into Shabbat. The reason is that one was moving from one sacred day to another sacred day, and there was no need to announce that work must stop. It was already prohibited to work on Yom Kippur.
Similarly, if Yom Kippur ended Shabbat, they did not make Havdalah for Shabbat, because one was moving directly from one sacred day into another. There was no need to distinguish between them. Rashi compares this to a festival that follows Shabbat. In that case, Havdalah is made because one is moving from the more stringent holiness of Shabbat to the lesser holiness of the festival. But when one moves from Yom Kippur to Shabbat, or from one equivalent sacred day to another, there is no ordinary Havdalah.
Rabbi Zeira initially thought that this teaching applied according to all opinions. When he later came to the Land of Israel, he heard Rabbi Yehuda quoting Rabbi Shmuel and explaining that the teaching follows Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva considers the holiness of Shabbat and Yom Kippur equal with respect to the fats of the offerings. Therefore, there is no blast when moving from Yom Kippur to Shabbat, just as there is no blast when moving from Shabbat to Yom Kippur.
Rabbi Ishmael, however, considers the holiness of Yom Kippur less stringent than that of Shabbat in this matter. According to him, if Yom Kippur falls on Friday, a blast should be sounded at the end of Yom Kippur to inform the priests that the fats of the Shabbat offering may be burned on Yom Kippur. The blast would indicate that Yom Kippur is the less stringent day in relation to Shabbat.
According to Rabbi Ishmael, how would the priests know that the fats of Shabbat may be burned on Yom Kippur when Yom Kippur falls immediately before Shabbat? The blast would teach them that Yom Kippur is less stringent than Shabbat. In a different year, when Yom Kippur falls after Shabbat, the absence of a blast on Shabbat would teach them that Shabbat is the more stringent day and that the fats of Yom Kippur may not be burned on Shabbat.
The Gemara initially suggests that the absence of a blast reflects Rabbi Akiva’s view, while Rabbi Ishmael would require a blast to distinguish the levels of holiness. Rabbi Zeira was then told that the blasts were not intended for the priests. The priests were experts in the law and were considered diligent. They knew what they were permitted and prohibited to do and did not need a blast to remind them.
The blasts were intended for the general public. The Gemara compares this to the device placed on the roof of the Temple that reflected sunlight and informed the people of Jerusalem when it was time to recite the Shema. The priests themselves recited the Shema earlier and did not need that signal. Similarly, the blasts sounded in the Temple were intended for people outside the Temple.
Therefore, Rabbi Zeira concludes that everyone agrees that when Yom Kippur falls on Friday, no blasts are sounded. For the general public, Shabbat and Yom Kippur are both sacred days, and there is no practical need to announce the distinction relevant to the priests. The priests are diligent and already know the law.
The Gemara asks, however, whether a blast should be sounded to inform the public that preparing vegetables is permitted on Yom Kippur when Yom Kippur falls immediately before Shabbat. There is a certain preparation of detached vegetables that may be done on Yom Kippur for the meal after Yom Kippur. This is permitted because the activity itself contributes to the affliction of Yom Kippur: a person handles and prepares food that he cannot eat.
The vegetables in question are not being pulled from the ground. They have already been detached. One is merely removing the bad leaves from the stalks or preparing the vegetables. It is not a full act of harvesting, cutting, or dicing. The Gemara is discussing a limited form of preparation, not the complete preparation of a meal.
Why is such activity permitted on Yom Kippur? The Torah says, “You shall afflict yourselves.” Handling food and preparing it while being unable to eat it adds to the person’s affliction. This is not because a person must deliberately create additional suffering. Rather, the preparation is permitted because it is considered part of the affliction, even though the food is being prepared for after Yom Kippur.
On Shabbat, however, this type of preparation would be prohibited because preparing food for after Shabbat constitutes preparation from one sacred day to another and is not permitted. Thus, there is a difference between Yom Kippur and Shabbat concerning this activity.
The Gemara asks whether the blasts should be sounded on Friday before Yom Kippur to inform people that this preparation is permitted. Rabbi Yosef answers that we do not override a rabbinic prohibition in order to teach a permission. Blowing the shofar at that time would itself be a rabbinic prohibition. We sound the blasts to inform people that they must stop performing prohibited activities, but we do not create a rabbinic prohibition in order to inform them that a particular activity is permitted.
For example, when a festival falls on Friday, blasts are sounded to tell people that work must stop, including slaughtering, carrying, and other activities that are permitted on a festival but prohibited on Shabbat. We do override a rabbinic restriction to inform people of a prohibition. We do not do so to inform them of a permission.
The Gemara then offers another answer. Perhaps a blast may be sounded to teach a permission that will apply in a later year, even if it does not apply immediately. When Yom Kippur follows Shabbat, the preparation of vegetables is not permitted for use after Yom Kippur, because Shabbat follows Yom Kippur and one may not prepare on Yom Kippur for Shabbat. The blast would therefore teach the public that in a later year, when Yom Kippur falls during the week, such preparation may be done for after Yom Kippur.
Rabbi Idi distinguishes between a nearby and a distant permission. A rabbinic restriction may be overridden to teach a permission that applies immediately, but not to teach a permission that will apply only in a distant situation. Since the permission to prepare vegetables would apply only the following year, the blast is not sounded.
The Gemara challenges this distinction from the Mishnah. When a festival falls on Friday, blasts are sounded to inform people that work must stop before Shabbat. That is an immediate prohibition. When Shabbat ends and a festival begins, however, no blasts are sounded to inform people that they may now cook, slaughter, or carry. This shows that even when the permission is immediate, we do not necessarily override the rabbinic prohibition of sounding the blasts.
Consequently, the Gemara returns to Rabbi Yosef’s principle: we do not override a rabbinic prohibition in order to teach a permission. We do so to teach a prohibition, but not to announce that an activity is permitted.
The Gemara then discusses the case of Yom Kippur that falls on Shabbat. From the perspective of Yom Kippur, preparing vegetables might appear to be permitted because it contributes to the affliction of Yom Kippur. From the perspective of Shabbat, however, it is prohibited. Which consideration takes precedence?
Rabbi Mana derives from the word “Sabbath” that Shabbat prohibits this activity. The Torah calls Yom Kippur a day of rest, but the additional language teaches that when Yom Kippur falls on Shabbat, the prohibitions of Shabbat remain in force. The preparation of vegetables is therefore prohibited.
This teaches an important principle. The prohibition is not limited to a full act of harvesting, which would be a Torah prohibition. Even an activity that is not a full labor may be prohibited under the concept of rest. Shabbat does not prohibit only the thirty-nine primary labors; it also prohibits certain unnecessary activities that involve exertion and preparation.
For example, if one wants to move folding chairs from a basement to an attic, or from one floor to another, without needing them for Shabbat, the activity may be prohibited even though it is not one of the primary labors. It is unnecessary exertion and preparation. The word “rest” teaches that Shabbat includes a prohibition against such activity.
Rashi explains that the prohibition concerns an activity that a person does not need for Shabbat. It is a form of unnecessary exertion. The word “rest” means that one must stop and refrain from such activity, even though it is not technically one of the primary labors.
There is a similar discussion concerning Yom Kippur. The word “rest” appears there as well, but the purpose is different. On Yom Kippur, the expression teaches additional forms of affliction. Handling food that one cannot eat can contribute to the affliction of the day. On Shabbat, the expression teaches that one must refrain from unnecessary exertion and preparation.
The Gemara later considers whether such a rabbinic prohibition may nevertheless be permitted on Yom Kippur when it contributes to affliction. One approach says that the same rabbinic prohibition applies, but it may be permitted because of the affliction of Yom Kippur. Another approach says that the word “rest” on Shabbat teaches a prohibition even in non-labor activities, while the word “rest” on Yom Kippur teaches only the additional forms of affliction.
The discussion then turns to cutting open nuts and removing the shells of pomegranates on Yom Kippur. This was done to increase the anguish of the day: people saw food in front of them but could not eat it. Again, the purpose was not to force people to create unnecessary suffering. It was permitted because the sight and preparation of food contributed to the affliction of Yom Kippur.
There is a story about the household of Rabbi Yehuda, where cabbage and pumpkins were being prepared on Yom Kippur. When Rabba saw that the family was preparing the food early, before the permitted time, he told them that he had received a message from the chief rabbi stating that the practice was prohibited. No such message had actually arrived. Rabba said this in order to prevent them from relying on a permission before the proper time.
The Gemara presents this as an example of a rabbi attributing a ruling to an authority who had not actually stated it. The purpose was to ensure that the people would accept the correct practice. If Rabba had simply told them that the activity was permitted, they might not have accepted the instruction to wait. By telling them that the chief rabbi had prohibited it, he caused them to follow the proper time.
This raises a broader question. How can one ever add a restriction that was not part of the original instruction? The example of the serpent in the Garden of Eden is relevant. God prohibited Adam and Eve from eating from the tree. The serpent added that they were not even permitted to touch it. Once the serpent added something that had not been prohibited, Eve touched the tree, saw that nothing happened, and eventually came to eat from it.
The difference is who is establishing the boundary. When the evil inclination or the serpent adds a restriction, the added restriction may collapse and lead to the violation itself. But when the sages establish a protective boundary, their ordinances are intended to guide a person toward holiness and to prevent a violation.
The sages create protective measures around the Torah. Their restrictions are not arbitrary additions; they are safeguards designed to prevent a person from reaching the prohibited act. Nevertheless, one must be careful not to invent sources or attribute statements carelessly. The story of Rabba teaches that, in a particular circumstance, he used this formulation to ensure that the proper halachic practice would be followed.
May we merit to understand the distinctions between Shabbat and Yom Kippur, between Torah prohibitions and rabbinic prohibitions, between necessary activity and unnecessary exertion, and between a genuine protective boundary and an improper addition. May we merit to study Torah with proper conduct and to build the world through both our learning and our character.