Let’s start from Samech-Gimmel amud bet (folio side b). The daf is for the success of Chaim ben Simchah and Ya’akov ben Andriyah, both spiritually and physically. Samech-Daled.
Rav Nachman, Ula, and Avimi bar Pappa were sitting, and Rav Chiyya bar Ami was sitting with them. They were asking: “Secharo lishbor beyayin nesech (libation wine): what is the law?” He hired him to break a barrel of yayin nesech. Do we say that since he is rotzeh bekiyumo (wanting it to remain)—he wants the barrel to be there so he can break it and get paid—he is considered to be deriving benefit from it, and therefore we prohibit it? Or perhaps, “Kol lemi’utei tiflah, shapir dami”: anything done to get rid of the tiflah is fine. The bottom line is that he is getting rid of the avodah zarah (idolatry), getting rid of the issur (prohibition), and therefore that is fine.
Rav Nachman said, “Yishbor, vetavo alav berachah”—he should break it, and a blessing will come upon him. What, he can go ahead and do it lechatchilah (from the outset)? Is that a tafkid (job)? “Neima mesayei leih”—let’s bring a proof for Rav Nachman from the baraita (early rabbinic teaching): “Ein oderin im ha’oved kochavim bekilayim (mixed species).” Kilayim is asur bahana’ah. So just as you are not allowed to plant kilayim or do anything that will help it grow, you cannot help the non-Jew with that. “Aval okrin imo”—but a Jew may be hired to pull out the kilayim. “Kedei lemi’utei et hatiflah”—to get rid of the tiflah. So what do you see? To get rid of the tiflah, to get rid of the issur. Even though he derives hana’ah (benefit) from it—he wants the issur to be there so he can pull it out and get paid—you see that this is not considered an issur. Just as I can help the non-Jew pull out the kilayim, even though I want it to remain, so too here he wants the wine to be there so he can get paid.
What did we say? “Aval okrin imo”—it is muttar (permitted). Rashi explains: “De’ashlicheih le’ibud, ve’af al gav rotzeh bekiyumo (wanting it to remain), shelo ye’akru me’eihen ad sheya’akrem hu”—he is throwing it away, even though he wants it to remain until he himself uproots it.
The Gemara says, “Savruha”: the Chachamim (the Sages) then said that the opinion we brought as a proof for Rav Nachman follows Rabbi Akiva. “Ha mani? Rabbi Akiva hi, de’amar: mekayem bekilayim, lokeh.” If you leave the kilayim there, or do something to maintain it—say, build a fence around it or otherwise protect it so it is not uprooted—you get malkot (lashes) for the prohibition of kilayim. According to Rabbi Akiva, then, the po’el (worker) would be transgressing the issur of kilayim because he is rotzeh bekiyumam. So there is a question: if the baraita follows Rabbi Akiva, it should be asur (forbidden), because he holds that even maintaining kilayim is a problem.
“Savruha: ha diktani okrin, afilu…” The Gemara continues: how do we know that Rabbi Akiva holds that maintaining kilayim is a problem? “Hamnakesh vehamchapeh bekilayim”—someone who weeds or covers with earth where kilayim was planted—gets lashes. Why? That is considered planting. That is straightforward; it is in the verse. But Rabbi Akiva says, “Af hamekayem”: even someone who does something to protect the kilayim, such as building a fence. “Mai ta’ama deRabbi Akiva?” What is Rabbi Akiva’s reason? “Amar kra: sadecha lo tizra kilayim.” The verse says, “You shall not sow mixed species in your field.” “Ein li ela zore’a”—I know only that this applies to planting. From where do I know that it applies to maintaining it? “Talmud lomar: lo kilayim.”
The verse also says, “Behemtecha lo tarbi’a kilayim”—you shall not breed your animals with mixed species—and earlier it says, “Sadecha lo tizra kilayim.” The Torah juxtaposes the word kilayim with sadecha, “your field.” So you can read the verse as “Kilayim sadecha lo”—kilayim shall not be in your field. Forget planting it; you cannot even have it there.
Now we go back and try to bring the proof. The Chachamim want to say that the baraita follows Rabbi Akiva, who says it is asur to maintain kilayim, because the worker wants it to remain. “Ve’ilu lemi’utei tiflah, sharei”—but getting rid of the tiflah is permitted. Maintaining it is one thing: then you want it. Here, you want to get rid of it. Therefore, we have a proof for Rav Nachman, and we did not prohibit the money. We said, “Lemi’utei tiflah, sharei.”
Rashi explains “Talmud lomar: lo kilayim.” He derives the word kilayim from the breeding prohibition, and since the kilayim of “lo tarbi’a” is juxtaposed to “sadecha,” we derive “kilayim sadecha lo.” Since the verse could have said, “Behemtecha lo tarbi’a kilayim velo tizra sadecha kilayim,” repeating kilayim twice, we learn that “sadecha” is also being expounded in relation to the kilayim mentioned earlier. “Ve’ilu okrin sharei”—but pulling it out is permitted, because it diminishes the tiflah. Even though he wants it to remain until he can remove it, he wants it there only temporarily.
But the Gemara says, no, there is no proof for Rav Nachman. Really, who is the baraita following? “Ha mani? Rabbanan hi.” What do the Rabbanan say? Maintaining kilayim does not transgress a prohibition, so there is no prohibition in wanting it to remain. Therefore, it is permitted to pull the kilayim out for the non-Jew even though the worker wants it to remain. But in Rav Nachman’s case, with yayin nesech, there is a prohibition against maintaining it, so bringing it would be asur. Don’t bring a proof from kilayim. Kilayim follows the shitat Rabbanan, who say that maintaining kilayim is muttar. That is why I can pull it out: even though I want to maintain it so I can earn my wages, the law of kilayim is straightforward. But with yayin nesech, maintaining it is asur. So can we bring a proof from something that is permitted to maintain to something that is forbidden to maintain?
Rashi says that the Rabbanan do not care if he is rotzeh bekiyuman, but yayin nesech is asur to be rotzeh bekiyuman, because a Jew is commanded to nullify idolatry. Where do we see this prohibition against maintaining yayin nesech? Rashi says there is a special law: you have to get rid of avodah zarah and its accessories. Avodah zarah cannot be left around, and this is actual yayin nesech, which was used for idolatry. So there is no proof from kilayim. Perhaps kilayim is permitted only because we follow the Rabbanan, who hold that maintaining it is muttar. But yayin nesech is avodah zarah; it was used for avodah zarah, it is asur to maintain, and therefore perhaps the wages are asur.
The Gemara asks: “I Rabbanan, mai irya okrim?” If the baraita follows the Rabbanan, why does it specifically say that they pull it out? On the contrary, say a greater chiddush (novel point): even maintaining it is fine! According to the Chachamim, you could even build a fence. Rashi explains that since the baraita needed to teach that they may uproot it, it sounds as if wanting it to remain is permitted when the purpose is to diminish the tiflah, but maintaining it fully is forbidden.
“Ve’i Rabbanan,” Rashi says, even maintaining it should be permitted. The Gemara answers: “Hacha be-mai askinan? Kegon de-ka avid be-chinnam”—we are discussing a case where he works for free. “Kulam modim she’asur be-kiyumo, velo yidbak beyadecha me’umah min hacherem”—everyone agrees that it is forbidden to maintain it; nothing from the condemned thing should cling to your hand. “Ashreichem, yekayyem lanu chachmei Yisrael.” Amen. I can’t hear any more, Rabbenu. Thank you, Rabbi, I can’t hear any more. “Rotzeh bekiyumo, lekayyem et Chachmei Yisrael.” That’s a great line.
“Hacha be-mai askinan, kegon de-ka avid be-chinnam.” The worker is working for free, and it follows Rabbi Yehudah, who says that giving them a free gift is forbidden, as we learned from “lo techanem.” Therefore, fundamentally, you cannot work for a non-Jew for free, because you are giving him a gift. The chiddush of the baraita is that since you are uprooting his thing, destroying it, that is not considered a free gift. That is the chiddush. Really, it follows the Rabbanan, and the case of maintaining it could have been given. The reason the baraita gives uprooting is to teach that although he is doing it for free—and ordinarily that should be asur, because you cannot give a non-Jew a gift—here, since you are destroying the man’s field by taking out the kilayim, that is not part of the prohibition.
Rashi explains: “Le’olam Rabbanan hi, veha de’itztarich lemishrei okrin, lav mishum issur rotzeh bekiyumo.” The reason we needed the case of uprooting is not the prohibition of wanting it to remain. Really, maintaining it is permitted, and you could even build a fence. So why did the baraita have to tell us that uprooting is permitted? It sounds as if maintaining it is forbidden. No, that is for a different reason: the prohibition of a free gift. Rabbi Yehudah says in the first chapter of Avodah Zarah that giving them a free gift is forbidden, and the baraita teaches that diminishing the tiflah is fine.
The Gemara says, “Midivrei Rabbi Yehudah nishma leRabbi Akiva.” From Rabbi Yehudah’s opinion, we can understand Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Yehudah says it is forbidden to give them a free gift, but that does not apply to uprooting. So we can say the same about Rabbi Akiva. Even though Rabbi Akiva says that someone who maintains kilayim gets lashes, diminishing the tiflah is fine. Just as Rabbi Yehudah’s prohibition against a free gift does not apply to uprooting, so too Rabbi Akiva’s prohibition against maintaining kilayim can be set aside for diminishing the tiflah. It would be asur to maintain it, but diminishing the tiflah would be permitted.
If diminishing kilayim in the world is a mitzvah, perhaps the same applies to the worker hired to break the barrel. Even though maintaining it is asur in the case of kilayim, and maintaining it is asur in the case of nesech, Rabbi Akiva could still hold that getting rid of the tiflah is muttar. So the baraita could follow Rabbi Akiva after all, and we have a proof for Rav Nachman.
Rashi says, “Ve’akshinan, umakshinan.” Even if we say the baraita follows Rabbi Yehudah, because the issue is working for free, Rabbi Yehudah waived his prohibition against a free gift in order to diminish the tiflah. From Rabbi Yehudah, we learn that Rabbi Akiva, too, would waive his prohibition against maintaining kilayim for the sake of diminishing the tiflah. And yayin nesech, too, would be permitted for the sake of diminishing the tiflah. Therefore, we can be lenient according to Rabbi Akiva with yayin nesech. Even though it is asur to maintain it, it would be muttar to destroy it. Even if there is some maintenance involved, your ultimate goal is to get rid of it.
“Ve-tu lo midi”—there is nothing more. Exactly: “Hadran.” Enough; the conversation is over. You can’t ask any more questions, because that is a conclusive proof for Rav Nachman. It is not over in the shiur, it seems, but it is over in the Gemara.
Moshe asked, “Are we saying there are two contradictory forces? One is wanting it to remain, and the other is diminishing the tiflah?” Those are not contradictory forces; it is an exception. From Rabbi Yehudah, we see that even though there is a prohibition against giving a free gift, it does not apply to diminishing the tiflah. Apply that same logic to Rabbi Akiva. Even though wanting kilayim to remain is asur, diminishing the tiflah is muttar. So the baraita can really follow Rabbi Akiva, and we have a proof for Rav Nachman: even with yayin nesech, which is asur to maintain, there is no problem when you are trying to get rid of it. The wages are therefore muttar. We have carved out an exception, even according to Rabbi Akiva. That is the point of the Gemara: you can hold that maintaining it is asur and that diminishing the tiflah is permitted; they do not contradict each other. You are getting rid of it.
But technically, you want it to be there so that you can get rid of it. No, getting rid of it is not what “rotzeh bekiyumo” means. It means wanting it to remain and maintaining it. Whatever you do—building a fence, for example—is maintaining it. But who said that wanting it to remain while you are getting rid of it is not called rotzeh bekiyumo?
Mark asked, “Beshev ve’al ta’aseh, lo ta’aseh—is not doing anything also maintaining it? Does he have to go out and put up a fence, or would simply leaving it there be asur according to Rabbi Akiva?” From Rashi, it sounds like you have to be proactive. Maybe Tosafot says something different, but Rashi’s wording is “ve’asah lahem siyag”—he made a fence for them. It sounds like you have to do something; otherwise, why would you get malkot? That would be a lav she’ein bo ma’aseh, a prohibition without an action. But just being passive and letting it remain there sounds, from the Gemara, like it would incur lashes.
Tosafot does not argue, I think. He says Rabbi Akiva is correct, based on Masechet Makkot. You have to know whether those lashes are specifically required or not. Some Rishonim hold that the lashes are not specifically required; what the Gemara says about lashes may just be a way of saying it is forbidden. Rashi also says, “Aval asur lihyot”—it is forbidden for it to be there. So I don’t know; there is almost a contradiction in Rashi. The point is that the action is not performed directly on the kilayim. You are not allowed to perform an external action that makes it remain. That is a good question; you have definitely raised an important subject. All the Rishonim discuss what a person has to do, according to Rabbi Akiva, to maintain kilayim, and whether the lashes the Gemara mentions are specifically lashes or just a way of saying it is forbidden. “Ayen sham” (see there).
They sat down again and asked another question: “Demei avodat kochavim beyad oved kochavim, mahu?” A non-Jew had avodah zarah and sold it. He has the money now. A non-Jew did not nullify his avodah zarah; he sold it and received money. Is that money asur? With a Jew, we say, “Lo yidbak beyadecha me’umah min hacherem”—nothing from the condemned thing should cling to your hand. That is when a Jew receives the money from avodah zarah. But what about a non-Jew? Does the money of avodah zarah in the hands of a non-Jew also become prohibited, or not?
Rashi explains that the question is about a non-Jew who sold avodah zarah: is the money from it permitted for benefit? Was he allowed to sell it? He sold it to another non-Jew. Whether lifnei iver applies to a non-Jew is a side point; the question is now the money the non-Jew got. The Gemara says that Rav Nachman told them, “Mistabra demei avodat kochavim beyad oved kochavim muttarin”—it stands to reason that money from avodah zarah in the hands of a non-Jew is permitted. That means a Jew may derive hana’ah from the money.
Why? It is like the case of the non-Jews who came before Rabbah bar Avuha wanting to convert. They asked what to do with the avodah zarah they had. He told them, “Zilu zevinu”—go sell it—“kol ma de’it lechu,” everything you have, and afterward they converted. The reason must be that once they sell it, the money is muttar. If they convert first and then sell it, they are selling it as Jews, and “lo yidbak beyadecha me’umah” applies. If they want to keep the money, they have to sell it while they are still non-Jews.
Why did the Rabbis give them that advice? Because they hold that money from avodah zarah in the hands of a non-Jew is permitted. Rashi explains that they converted afterward; once they were converts, the avodah zarah they had was prohibited. We learn from this that if they sold it while they were still non-Jews, they could benefit from the money as converts.
The Gemara objects: perhaps that case of Rabbah bar Avuha is different. Since they came to convert, perhaps they certainly nullified the avodah zarah. They were coming to become Jewish, so it was considered nullified. They had the avodah zarah and wanted to become Jewish; they no longer wanted avodah zarah. Exactly. That is why it was muttar. Why did they have to sell it? They wanted the money. If they converted first, the avodah zarah would already be in the hands of a Jew, and there would be no nullification. So, since their intention was to convert, it was certainly nullified, and the money would be muttar.
But if he converted first, the avodah zarah would be in the hands of a Jew, and then there would be no nullification ever. I’m not sure why that is. You’re saying that if he is on the way to conversion, that is already considered nullification, so seemingly he may be able to sell it even after converting. Once he nullified it, he nullified it. What is the difference? Rashi says they nullified it beforehand, and that a non-Jew who nullifies avodah zarah and converts may benefit from it, because he had already nullified it.
But I don’t understand why he told them that they could not sell it after converting. Once he nullified it, he nullified it. What is the issue? Tosafot asks why Rabbah bar Avuha told them to sell everything they had, which implies they had yayin nesech, even though yayin nesech cannot be nullified. That is another question: why would he tell them to sell it before they converted? Mar’it ayin (the appearance of wrongdoing). That is, it was not forbidden by the law itself, but because of mar’it ayin, people might think there had been no nullification and that a Jew was selling avodah zarah, which a Jew cannot do because there is no nullification. Fine, but that gives no proof for what we are trying to prove: whether money from actual avodah zarah in the hands of a non-Jew is permitted. This was not a case of actual avodah zarah in the relevant sense.
Rather, the Gemara brings a different case: “Yisrael shehayah nosheh be’oved kochavim maneh”—a Jew was owed a maneh by a non-Jew. The non-Jew sold avodah zarah and brought him the money, or sold yayin nesech and brought him the money. What is the law? Muttar. The Jewish lender can keep the money. The Jew got paid, even though he knew where the money came from.
“Aval im amar lo, hamten li ad she’emkor avodat kochavim ve’avi lach, yein nesech ve’avi lach”—but if the non-Jew told him, “Wait until I sell my avodah zarah and bring you the money, or sell yayin nesech and bring you the money”—that is asur. This is the second case. The Gemara asks, “Mai shna reisha mai shna seifa?” What is the difference between the first case and the second? Rav Sheshet says, “Seifa mishum dehava leih kirotzeh bekiyumo.” In the second case, the Jew wants the avodah zarah to remain in the world so the non-Jew can sell it and pay him.
If the non-Jew simply sells it and comes to give him the money, saying, “By the way, this came from the proceeds of avodah zarah,” that is muttar. But here he tells the Jew in advance, “Give me time; I’m selling this thing so I can pay you.” The Jew says, “Great; the avodah zarah has to remain in the world so you can sell it.” So there is a problem of rotzeh bekiyumo, and this opinion holds that wanting avodah zarah to remain is asur. The Jew’s only interest is that the avodah zarah be there so the non-Jew can sell it and pay him. That is called wanting avodah zarah to remain, and therefore he cannot benefit in that case. That is what the second case says: you cannot derive benefit. The first case is different, as Eliezer says, because you don’t know. The Jew simply received the proceeds.
The Gemara says, “Vechi rotzeh bekiyumo ki hai gavna mi asir?” Why should wanting it to remain in such a case be forbidden? We learned in Masechet Demai about a convert and a non-Jew who were brothers and inherited from their non-Jewish father. Their inheritance included yayin nesech and other such items. The convert can tell his brother, “Tol atah avodat kochavim va’ani ma’ot”—you take the avodah zarah and I’ll take the money; or, “Tol atah yayin nesech va’ani peirot”—you take the yayin nesech and I’ll take the produce. They are equal. But if they had already divided the inheritance and it came into the convert’s possession, he can no longer switch it.
What do you see? He wants the avodah zarah to remain so his brother can take it and he can receive money in exchange. So why is wanting it to remain not a problem? Rashi asks: doesn’t he want to sell it right away? He wants it sold immediately; he does not want it to remain. He says, “I’ll sell my thing,” and the other says, “Fine, sell it this second.” But he wants it to be there for the sale. No, he wants it sold right now. He doesn’t want it tomorrow, next week, or a month from now. But it is rotzeh bekiyumo even for one nanosecond. If it breaks, he gets nothing. Exactly—even for one nanosecond is enough.
There is a question about whether the brother has to take it. Perhaps he can take it anyway. The convert is not inheriting it as a Torah-law matter; it is there in front of him, and he could take it. He is just giving him advice: “I can’t use it; you can, so take it.” He doesn’t have to take it; he is not forcing him.
Rashi says, “Tol atah avodat kochavim,” and explains: “Dehager rotzeh bekiyumah shelo tishtaber ad shetitol midah keneged midah, ve’afilu hachi sharei.” The convert wants it to remain so it does not break until he receives an equivalent share, and nevertheless it is permitted.
Rav Sheshet answers: “Matnitin ba’avodat kochavim hamitchaleket lefi shevareiha.” We are talking about avodah zarah made of gold or silver that can be divided into pieces. If it breaks, it does not lose its value, so the convert does not care if it breaks. It is not a case of wanting it to remain. Rashi explains that if the gold or silver breaks, its value does not diminish, so the convert does not care about its breaking.
That works for avodah zarah, but what can we say about yayin nesech? Seemingly, yayin nesech should be asur because he wants it to remain. He said, “Tol atah yayin va’ani peirot”; he did not mention yayin nesech. Right, one of the cases is yayin nesech. So the question is why it is asur in the seifa. The Gemara says the case is “becheres Hadriani”: wine absorbed into Hadriani earthenware jugs. The convert does not care if the vessel breaks, because the wine is absorbed in the walls and can still come out when the vessel is soaked in water. Rashi explains that if the vessel breaks, the wine is not necessarily lost; it is absorbed inside and comes out when the vessel is soaked in water. Just add water—it’s a Chia Pet! You drop it into the water, and all of a sudden the wine comes out.
The question is of Mr. Scaba is the Gemara’s next question, you have to be patient. But the Gemara asks, “Veha lo rotzeh bekiyumo shelo yignevu veshelo yovdu?” Doesn’t he still want it to remain so it won’t be stolen or lost? So the vessel breaking addresses only one concern; it does not address the other. How do we explain the case of avodah zarah in the inheritance? The Gemara rejects that answer. We have to go back to the sugya.
The question was about money from avodah zarah sold by a non-Jew. We brought a proof from the case of the Jew owed money by a non-Jew, who brought him money from selling yayin nesech. We said it is muttar. But if the non-Jew tells him, “Wait until I sell it,” then there is a problem because of rotzeh bekiyumo. The Gemara asked what the difference is between the first case and the second. We still do not understand the difference, because when he says it explicitly, we say it is a problem; and we cannot bring a question from the inheritance case, since the Gemara answered that case differently. So what is the proof?
The Gemara says, “Ela amar Rav Pappa: yerushat hager ka’amar.” The issue really is rotzeh bekiyumo, and that is why the second case, the debt, is asur. Don’t bring a question from the inheritance case, where he also wants it to remain and we said it is muttar. “Shani yerushat hager de’akilu bah Rabbanan”—the Rabbanan were lenient in that case because of a decree, lest the convert return to his former ways. If you tell him he will not get the money, he may say, “I became Jewish because I thought I would get more money, and now they’re taking it away.” He might decide that it is too hard to be Jewish and go back to his old ways.
Is it a problem if you are a convert? Exactly: “I became Jewish, and now I’m worse off; my brother, who is a non-Jew, gets all the money, while the rabbis tell me that because I’m Jewish, wanting it to remain is asur.” Especially in the first year, when the person may be wavering, you don’t want to push him over the cliff. “Why don’t you discourage him before?” Once he is Jewish, it is different. We can tell him before conversion. Maybe inheritance issues are a good test.
Rashi does not add anything here. “Tanya nami hachi”—a baraita supports this: “Bameh devarim amurim? Yarshu”—when does this apply? When they inherited it. But if a convert and a non-Jew became partners in avodah zarah or yayin nesech, it is asur for them to divide the proceeds equally. Why? The convert wants the proceeds to remain. Why not say that the non-Jew will go back to his avodah zarah? Perhaps in a business partnership, business is business, but being excluded from his father’s inheritance is more personal. If we are worried that converts will go back to their former ways whenever money is taken from them, there must be a distinction between inheritance from a father and a partnership.
Rashi says that with a partnership, they could have divided it before he converted. The inheritance only happens after he converts, because you don’t know when the father will die. Rashi also gives another explanation: “Mipnei shehager garam zot le’atzmo”—the convert caused this himself. He made the partnership; why did he do that? When he entered the partnership, he could not blame it on the religion. But his father’s death was out of his control. If they became partners before he converted, the convert could have arranged to divide the partnership before converting. If they became partners after he converted, he could have warned the non-Jew. Another answer is that a partnership between a non-Jew and a convert in avodah zarah or yayin is not a common case. It is common for a convert’s father to die, but it is not so common for a convert and a non-Jew to go into partnership together.
So in the inheritance case, we are concerned that the convert may return to his former ways, and the Rabbanan make a decree or allowance where they think it is needed. They do not make an allowance where the case is uncommon. Also, with a partnership, he already owns part of it; with inheritance, the property may not yet have reached his hands. We are still saying that in a partnership it is asur to split up the avodah zarah, even though both are partners. “If you do that, I’m going back to the Chabad rabbi and telling him I don’t want to be a convert.” Don’t threaten us. Who should have gone into the partnership in the first place?
They sat down again with a third question: “Ger toshav mahu? Sheyevatel avodat kochavim?” A ger toshav is a non-Jew who accepted upon himself not to worship avodah zarah and to observe the seven mitzvot of Bnei Noach, but violates other prohibitions. Can he nullify avodah zarah? “Defalach mevatel, delo falach lo mevatel?” Perhaps only someone who worships avodah zarah can nullify it. If he does not worship avodah zarah, perhaps he cannot.
The explanation is this: what is the idea of bitul? You are nullifying it. Only someone who gave it credibility can take away its credibility. Who gave avodah zarah credibility? You did. It is a piece of wood. What made it important? You did. So if you gave it credibility, you can take that credibility away. Perhaps a non-Jew who does not worship avodah zarah never gave it credibility, so he cannot nullify it. But someone else gave it credibility. Exactly: a ger toshav owns this avodah zarah, though he did not create it. Or perhaps he created it before he became a ger toshav. Before he repented, he created it; now, let’s say, he is born again—he’s a Noahide, Vendyl Jones. He is not worshipping avodah zarah. The question is whether only someone who worships can nullify it, or whether anything belonging to a non-Jew can be nullified by him. “Vehai bar mineih hu”—he is of the same kind. Regarding this, he is a non-Jew; we do not divide non-Jews into different categories.
Rashi says that a ger toshav does not worship avodah zarah, but he is still of the kind of non-Jew who worships avodah zarah, and he violates other prohibitions. The lecturer asks whether that could mean even the other six mitzvot, or whether it means other prohibitions as understood from our perspective. He observes the seven mitzvot, but he is still a non-Jew, not a convert.
Rav Nachman says, “Mistabra: defalach mevatel, delo falach lo mevatel.” It stands to reason that someone who worships can nullify it, and someone who does not worship cannot. A non-Jew who worships avodah zarah can nullify it: you gave it credibility, so you can take that credibility away. If you did not, you cannot. Why distinguish? Why not say any non-Jew can do it? No, a non-Jew who worships avodah zarah. The Gemara will ask whether someone who worships one kind can nullify a different kind. That is a good question.
The Gemara challenges him: “Yisrael shematza avodat kochavim bashuk”—a Jew who found avodah zarah in the marketplace. Before it comes into his possession, he can tell a non-Jew to nullify it. Once it comes into his possession, he cannot tell a non-Jew to nullify it. Why? “Oved kochavim mevatel avodat kochavim shelo veshel chaveiro”—a non-Jew can nullify his own avodah zarah and that of his friend. “Bein ovdah, bein she’eino ovdah”—whether he worships it or does not worship it.
What does “whether he worships it or does not worship it” mean? If both refer to non-Jews, then it means a non-Jew can nullify the avodah zarah of his friend, even if he never worshipped that particular one. But that is the same as “his own and his friend’s.” The baraita already said he can nullify his own and his friend’s. Rather, perhaps “one who worships” means a non-Jew, and “one who does not worship” means a ger toshav, who does not worship at all. Then we would see that a ger toshav can nullify avodah zarah.
The Gemara says, no: “Le’olam eidi ve’eidi ovdei kochavim.” Both cases refer to non-Jews who worship avodah zarah. “Bein ovdah, bein eino ovdah” refers to the same non-Jew: he can nullify his own avodah zarah, the one he worships, and his friend’s, the one he does not worship. The first case, “shelo veshel chaveiro,” is when both worship Pe’or. The chiddush is that one can nullify his friend’s Pe’or. The second case is when one worships Pe’or and the other worships Markulis. The chiddush is that he can nullify his friend’s Markulis even though he does not worship it. But this gives no proof about a ger toshav. It is still only speaking about non-Jews who worship.
The Gemara brings another challenge: “Eizehu ger toshav?” Who is a ger toshav? A person you must sustain and may not kill; you must let him live among you. He is like a Druze; he has not undergone circumcision or immersion, but he accepted before three scholars not to worship avodah zarah; these are the words of Rabbi Meir. The Chachamim say that a ger toshav is anyone who accepted the seven mitzvot that the descendants of Noah accepted. Others say that those mentioned by Rabbi Meir have not reached the status of ger toshav. They are like all non-Jews, who are obligated in the seven mitzvot. Rather, what is a ger toshav? “Zeh ger ochel neveilot shekiyyem alav lekayyem kol mitzvot ha’amurot baTorah chutz me’issur neveilot”—he is a ger who eats carcasses, having accepted upon himself to fulfill all the commandments in the Torah except the prohibition against eating carcasses.
Wow—that is what Rashi said above. “Goy sheshavat chayav mitah”—a non-Jew who observes Shabbat is liable to death. The Halachot Moshe asks your question: how could he accept that? Good question, and it is not answered. So you have an issue with Halachot Moshe.
The Bi’ur Halachah says that according to Others, a ger toshav also has the seven mitzvot and no more; if he accepted eight mitzvot, they wage war against him. He is obligated to fulfill them. That is a different version of the text. Maybe it means he does not observe Shabbat. That is a question in itself: what do you do about Shabbat with a non-Jew?
But the bottom line is, what do we see here? This ger toshav is on a much higher level than someone who accepts only the seven mitzvot. He accepts all the mitzvot in the Torah except one. “Neveilot” is McDonald’s; I don’t blame him. No, specifically, he is still a non-Jew, so they give him one prohibition. So he gets to pick? I guess that is what he picked. He accepts all the negative commandments except neveilot.
If someone gave you one prohibition in the Torah you could do away with, what would you pick? I ask my kids that. One item you could delete from religion and it would be permitted. “Drink blood.” “Cheeseburgers.” What are you, a vampire? “Starting school in Elul.” I’d vote for that. Is that a prohibition? One of my sons-in-law says we should do away with Shenayim Mikra ve-Echad Targum. He says, “I hate Shenayim Mikra ve-Echad Targum. Such a dreary item to do.” “And that’s what you’d take away?” I said, “Well, as an item to take away…” I disagreed with him.
What would you take away? Tareif? Lashon hara (harmful speech)? It’s hard; you feel guilty all the time. You have to think of something you want to do but are not allowed to do. Nobody wants to answer, because it exposes your weakness. Somebody says, “Murder”—what kind of person is that? Exactly: drink blood. Then you start to see what is really inside the person. Be careful answering; it lets us know. It is a tricky question. You might end up in therapy once we hear your answer. Next, a guy says, “Bestiality,” and he lets us know exactly what his—
What did your kids say? Probably things to do with eating. Tareif. IHOP, I’m sure; IHOP is all about eating. No restrictions on eating: you can eat any salad you want without checking for bugs, and McDonald’s french fries. That would be something. I wouldn’t take away Shabbat; you already feel the enjoyment in this world. “I want to ride, and I want to carry.” You want to carry and ride to shul. For sure. So you would do away with the eiruv (Sabbath boundary arrangement)? You’d do away with the eiruv. Okay, that makes sense: carrying on Shabbat. “I want to get here in ten minutes instead of…” Right, move closer. Why get rid of the eiruv? Say, “Get rid of electricity, so you can drive here.”
The lamdanisher guy says, “I want to get rid of borer ochel mitoch psolet le’alter.” All right, that is another question. Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement)—not fasting. But whatever you take away, you will be jealous of your friend’s choice when you see him doing that thing and think, “I should have taken that one.” The grass is always greener. After Yom Kippur, you did it; you ate on Yom Kippur. But then you see your friend doing the other thing. You picked something that happens once a year, while Joe picked something that happens 52 times a year. You have to figure out how to maximize your choice. How many people on Yom Kippur say, “I’ll give up anything not to…” All right, good question.
“Meyachadim etzlo yayin”—they may leave wine in his presence. What is this, Emethim, or what are we doing? These are new questions about a ger toshav. If a Jew has a wine shop and a ger toshav comes in, the Jew can leave him alone in the store. He is not an idol worshipper, so we let him touch the wine. We are not worried that he will switch the wine, because he does not worship avodah zarah.
Furthermore, “Ve’ein mafkidin etzlo yayin”—we do not deposit wine with him. He can come into your store, but you cannot leave the wine with him as collateral or have him watch it for a long time in his house. “Ve’afilu be’ir sherubah Yisrael”—even in a city where most people are Jews. We are not worried about people coming in, since most people in the area are Jews and the non-Jews are a minority. But the concern is that over time he may switch the wine. What is wrong with his wine? We will see why his wine is asur. Seemingly, his wine should be muttar.
“Aval meyachedim etzlo yayin, ve’afilu be’ir sherubah ovdei kochavim”—but they may leave wine in his presence even in a city where most people are idol worshippers. What does it mean to leave wine in his presence? It means leaving it in the same store. Even where most people are idol worshippers, we are not concerned, because the ger toshav is in the Jewish store. Or perhaps the Jew can stop him. The text says that wine may be left in a Jewish shop even in a city where most people are idol worshippers, because the ger toshav is there. So the ger toshav will not let the non-Jew touch it; he is a guard. You can trust him to watch the store, even in a city where most people are non-Jews. You cannot trust him to take it to his house, but in the store he will stop the non-Jew from touching the Jew’s wine.
“Shamno cheyeino”—his oil is like his wine. Does that mean the same laws apply? The Gemara asks, “Shemen mi ka havei nesech?” Is there such a thing as libation oil here? Rather, “Yeino cheshamno”—his wine is like his oil. The wine of a ger toshav is permitted for benefit, like their oil. “Ulish’ar kol devarav, harei hu ke’oved kochavim”—for all other matters, he is like a non-Jew. What else is this referring to? The Gemara asks, “Mi ka havei asur?” So the wording is changed: “Yeino cheshamno.”
Rashi says that some explain “meyachedim etzlo” to mean that one leaves the wine in the shop until one has gone a mil or more. This is different from an ordinary non-Jew, because this person does not worship and does not touch or pour the wine. We are not concerned that a non-Jew who comes from outside will touch it in his house, because he has no benefit from doing so and the ger toshav will not let him. Nor are we concerned that he will switch the wine over a short time. “Shamno cheyeino” might imply that his oil is forbidden, so the Gemara asks whether oil can be libation wine. Rather, his wine is permitted for benefit like his oil. This is before oil was permitted for eating: it had been permitted for benefit, but not for eating. It is forbidden to drink, but permitted for benefit. So his wine is like his oil: permitted for benefit, but you cannot drink the wine of a ger toshav.
Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says, “Yeino yayin nesech”—his wine is libation wine, and asur for benefit. Perhaps another non-Jew touched it and the ger toshav was not careful about that. Some say instead that it is permitted to drink. That is the more extreme position.
What do we see? “Ulish’ar kol devarav harei hu ke’oved kochavim.” What practical difference does that make? Seemingly, the passage is only about wine and oil. It must mean that he has the status of a non-Jew regarding nullification of avodah zarah. Just as a non-Jew can nullify avodah zarah, a ger toshav can too. That answers the question against Rav Nachman, who said that someone who worships can nullify it and someone who does not worship cannot. Here, we are saying that for other matters he is like a non-Jew, implying that even though he does not worship, he can nullify it.
The Gemara answers with a different practical difference. Rav Nachman bar Yitzchak says it concerns giving and nullifying permission in an eiruv, as taught in a baraita about a mumar, an apostate Jew. A Jew who observes Shabbat in public but desecrates it privately is still a Jew. If he did not join the eiruv with the residents of the courtyard, he prohibits everyone from carrying. What can he do? He can nullify his permission in favor of the other residents, and then they can carry. But a Jew who does not observe Shabbat in public cannot nullify his permission, and so they cannot carry.
Regarding an eiruv, there is a law of nullifying permission. But if he is too much like a non-Jew, then he cannot nullify permission; a non-Jew has no nullification of permission. The Penei Yehoshua says: a Jew gives permission and nullifies permission, while a non-Jew must be rented from. How does a Jew give permission? He says, “Reshuti kenuyah lach” or “Reshuti mevutelet lach”—my permission is transferred to you, or my permission is nullified for you. That works without a formal acquisition. The practical difference is that a ger toshav is considered like a non-Jew for this matter, so nullification of permission in a courtyard will not help; you have to rent his property.
Rashi explains that a Jew can give permission, while a non-Jew must be rented from before Shabbat. A Jew who observes Shabbat in public, even though he desecrates it privately, can give permission. If his doorway opens onto a courtyard where Jews live and he forgot to join their eiruv, he can nullify his permission for them. If he did not nullify it, they may not carry from his house to the courtyard, but they may carry from their individual domains to the shared domain. The Chachamim decreed that one may not carry from one person’s private domain to another’s. A shared area is different.
How does a Jew give permission? He says, “Reshuti kenuyah lach,” and that gives them permission to carry into the courtyard. No money is necessary, not even a symbolic acquisition; the verbal transfer is enough.
Can you do this in a hotel? That is a big question. Chacham Ben Tzion wants to say that in a hotel you do not have to worry. Why might someone say you do have to worry? Because the hotel owner really owns everything; they can come in at any time, remove you, and have keys. You are not necessarily considered a resident. It is all one domain. He says it is all one domain, so you do not need to rent the common area.
The problem is hotels where people are private residents, which is very common. People own residences in hotels such as the Regis. Maybe the hotel still has access to those rooms. They cannot throw the residents out. I thought the halachah was that you have to rent the common area when you come in. Bring me Chacham Ben Tzion, volume two, Shabbat. Do you have Chacham Ben Tzion? Ohr LeTziyon has a leniency regarding derech halichah (a passageway). It is a big question. If you go to Daytona, you have a passageway. This is only in a case where someone forgot to make the arrangement. In a hotel, there is free coffee; take a walk and get the coffee. An electric kettle, please. Are we in the second row? No, to the left. Which one? Shabbat, the bet, I think. What is Chamei Tziyon? Let’s see; we are talking about carrying. Hotza’ah (carrying). Rabbenu, lamed-gimmel. Let’s see the note at the bottom.
It says: “Hineh besefer Or LeTziyon, siman lamed-aleph, sheyesh lehatir letaltel mehabayit lechadar hamadregot, mishum shechadar hamadregot dino kebeit sha’ar”—in the book Ohr LeTziyon, section 31, it says that one may carry from the home to the stairwell, because the stairwell has the status of a gateway. That is not considered a courtyard. The Mishnah Berurah discusses a gateway and a ruin: just as one does not prohibit, so too one does not prohibit. A gateway does not prohibit. So there are opinions that say that is the case.
However, later he wrote to me, “Le’achar zeman katav li chacham echad michutz la’aretz,” and I later saw that one cannot disagree with the words of the Mishnah Berurah. Fine; he says he changed his mind. A gateway that people pass through is not like a ruin; one can say it has the status of a courtyard. In any case, if people carry there, they need an eiruv chatzerot (courtyard arrangement). Since it is not considered a dwelling, its status is like a courtyard. Ohr LeTziyon says that, according to the Mishnah Berurah, this is necessary; or, at least, if the residents in that building made an eiruv chatzerot, that resolves the issue.
Let me check one more time. We talked about people who rent and pay five dollars or two dollars to the manager for permission to carry in the common area. I understand why they would do that. Young Israel is like 20 and with the honkers walks up to doing it.
A common courtyard surrounded by separate dwellings: it is forbidden to carry an item from the yard to the house, while carrying in the yard itself is permitted. To carry between them, they have to make an eiruv. Does this apply to an apartment house or condominium where the common area is a corridor or lobby? Rav Moshe Feinstein rules as follows regarding a dwelling such as an apartment house or hotel: if it is a rental or leasing arrangement in which the lessor owns certain appliances in the renter’s domain, the requirement for an eiruv does not apply. He based this decision on Talmudic and rabbinic sources, including tefisat yad (retained control) and ownership. This is so even though the renter has rented the apartment and has a private area. Consequently, this would apply to a hotel guest who rented a room, because the hotel management owns many items in the room. Rav Yaakov Orenstein and Yaakov Breisch also concurred with this principle.
That is Rav Moshe. We have to ask: what if they have no rights? That ruling says that people have private dwellings. My brother has an apartment, it's... In a hotel or in a...? They're allowed to go into the apartments. Still? Maybe that gives them tefisat yad. That is only access rights, though. Yes, but it could be that they have rights to certain things, because it is still the hotel’s property. They might have rights to the air conditioner or other things that they can repair without asking. They only go in if there is a problem, like a flood. I don't think they... Yeah, a right to enter to close the air conditioner. That is the question: maybe you would need an eiruv if there are private residents.
If there is a non-Jew, forget about it. But for a non-Jew, you have to rent his permission. You have to pay the dollar. I did that with my neighbor. We shared a driveway. Mr. Lee, a Chinese man who worked for the post office, lived next door. He later killed himself. It was a miracle he didn’t take the whole post office with him. Those disgruntled postal workers sometimes come in and shoot the place up. I don’t know what they do at the post office that makes them so depressed, but he killed himself. He worked the night job, from 12:00 to 6:00 in the morning.
Before he killed himself, I went to him and said, “Mr. Lee, I need to carry in the area on Shabbat. We share the same courtyard, so I need to buy your property for Shabbat—but it is not really buying it.” I explained the whole thing. I said, “I’m going to give you a dollar.” He said, “No, no, you don’t owe me. You can take it.” I said, “No, I’m going to give you a dollar. Take it.” Fine. The first Shabbat, he pulled out all his cars and lawn furniture and put them out front. I said, “What are you doing?” He said, “I sold it to you.” That’s why he killed himself, probably. It was only a dollar. He said, “What did I do? I sold it for…” I said, “No, you don’t have to do that; it’s a ceremony.” He was a good non-Jew. He moved all his cars out. You should have recorded the transaction.
He used to go crazy because we took out the garbage. We had about eleven bags, and he had one tiny bag out front. He could not understand where we generated all that rubbish. Every week he put out his one little bag, like a zecher (reminder), so the garbage would not forget him. He put it out just as a reminder that the guy shouldn’t forget him. We…