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A Yissachar / Zebulun Partnership in Loving Memory of Yishak ben Simcha A"H & Felicia bat Miriam A"H
Rabbi Eli Mansour

Daf Yomi

Berachot 33A - 33B (14th Cycle Daf Yomi Shiur)

Lectured by Rabbi Eli Mansour

Published
January 5, 2010
Duration
25:40

This transcript was auto-generated and polished for readability. While we aim for accuracy, errors may occur. If you notice a mistake, please click to submit corrections.

We begin today’s page, 33, side one, eight lines down, with a quotation from the Mishnah. We learned that if a person is in the middle of the Amidah and a snake is wrapped around his leg, he should not interrupt his prayer. He should continue praying. Rabbi Sheshet says that this applies only to a snake, because a snake may not be so dangerous. A scorpion, however, is more dangerous, and one should stop to move it away. A scorpion is more likely to bite and cause serious harm than a snake, particularly in this case, where the snake is already wrapped around the person’s leg and has not done anything. There is therefore less reason for concern.

The Mishnah then discusses someone who fell into a lion’s den. We may not testify that he died and thereby allow his wife to remarry. Seeing a person fall into a lion’s den does not automatically mean that he died. Perhaps he survived. As Rashi explains, we may not testify concerning him that he died in order to permit his wife to remarry, because there are times when the lions are not hungry and do not eat him.

By contrast, if a person fell into a pit containing snakes and scorpions, we may testify that he died. This recalls Yosef HaTzaddik, when his brothers threw him into the pit. The verse says that there were snakes and scorpions in it. We see that snakes, and not only scorpions, are capable of killing. Why, then, did Rabbi Sheshet initially say that the ruling applies only to a snake, implying that a snake is not so dangerous, whereas one must be concerned about a scorpion? Here the text speaks about both snakes and scorpions as dangerous.

The Gemara answers that the cases are different. When Yosef was thrown into the pit, the force of the fall agitated the snakes and scorpions. The pressure of his falling on them disturbed them. Rashi explains that when a person is passive and a snake simply comes onto him, there may be no need to interrupt the prayer. If, however, he falls onto the snakes or scorpions and agitates them, he must be concerned. The phrase “snakes and scorpions” therefore means either snakes or scorpions. Rabbi Yitzchak says that this is the meaning of the Mishnah, and Rashi explains that it is one or the other.

The Gemara then discusses an ox approaching a person. An ox is dangerous, and one must move away. Rav Oshaya taught that one should distance himself fifty cubits from an ordinary ox, an ox that has not yet gored and is therefore still considered harmless. From a goring ox, one should move as far away as he can see.

It was taught in the name of Rabbi Meir that even when the ox’s head is in a basket eating, and it is not paying attention to the person, he should climb onto the roof and move the ladder away. The point is that one must be extremely cautious. Rashi explains that the ox may have its head in the basket and be eating, but one should not rely on that. The instruction to move the ladder does not mean specifically that the ladder must be removed; it means that one should be very careful and distance himself considerably.

Shmuel says that this applies specifically to a black ox in the month of Nisan, in the spring, because “the Satan dances between its horns.” After the winter has passed, the ox sees everything green and renewed. It sees the world refreshed, and this causes it to become more aggressive. Therefore, one must be particularly careful.

The Sages taught a story about a certain place where an arod, a type of snake, was harming people. They came and informed Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa. He said to them, “Show me its hole.” They showed him the opening, and he placed his heel over it. The snake came out, bit him, and died. Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa then placed it on his shoulder and brought it to the study hall. He said to those present, “My children, see: it is not the arod that kills; sin kills.” At that moment they said, “Woe to the person whom an arod encounters, and woe to the arod that encounters Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa.”

Rashi quotes the Bahag, who explains how the miracle occurred. When an arod bites a person, whichever one reaches the water first survives. If the arod reaches the water first, the person dies. If the person reaches the water first, the arod dies. The miracle in Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa’s case was that when he placed his heel over the hole, water appeared there. Since his foot was already in the water, the arod died first. This explains the mechanism of the miracle according to the ordinary way in which matters involving an arod work.

The Maharsha points out that the Gemara does not seem to provide such an explanation; it merely says, “He relied on a miracle.” That was Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa’s practice—he relied on miracles. Nevertheless, one could say that he knew the principle stated here in the Gemara: it is not the arod that kills; sin kills.

The basic principle is that animals should fear human beings, as the verse says, “The fear and dread of you shall be upon every animal of the earth.” This is also what happened to Yosef HaTzaddik and to Daniel when he was thrown into the lions’ den: the animals feared them. The only reason animals do not fear a person is that the person has sinned and has therefore become vulnerable. The animal, so to speak, says, “He is just like us. He too is an animal.” Animals fight one another, but when an animal sees a human being who is free of sin, it recognizes that he is different and is afraid.

They say that there was a large dog in Baranovitch. Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman would walk by, and the dog would stop in front of him. It would stop barking and become afraid of the rabbi. Perhaps this is the explanation here as well: when a person is free of sin, he does not need to fear the animal.

The Mishnah then discusses the mention of rain and the blessing of discernment. We mentioned that the second blessing of the Amidah, which speaks of the revival of the dead, is called a mention, because it is not a prayer. This differs from a request, which is the next matter in the Mishnah. The Mishnah says that one mentions the power of rain in the second blessing, and one asks for discernment in the blessing of discernment.

Rabbi Akiva says that we recite a fourth blessing on its own. In other words, after the three standard blessings of the Amidah, this is a separate blessing. Rabbi Eliezer says that it is inserted into the blessing of thanksgiving, Modim. We therefore have three approaches. According to the practice we follow, it is inserted into the blessing of discernment. According to Rabbi Akiva, it is a separate fourth blessing, resulting in twenty blessings before the blessing against heretics in the Amidah. According to Rabbi Eliezer, it is inserted into Modim.

Rabbi Eliezer’s position is understandable. Havdalah expresses the distinction between the sacred and the ordinary, and it makes sense to place it in Modim, where we give thanks that the Holy One, blessed be He, has given us the sacred and the ordinary and has distinguished between them. It also makes sense to place it in the blessing of discernment, because the entire idea of Havdalah is the ability to distinguish. One needs discernment in order to distinguish, and therefore it is appropriate to say it in the blessing that asks for knowledge and discernment. All of these positions have an internal logic.

The Gemara asks why rain is mentioned in the blessing of the revival of the dead. Rain is a form of revival because it gives life to the ground. It provides food, and food ultimately provides life to the world. Without rain, people would die. It is therefore comparable to the revival of the dead, and it is appropriate to mention it in that blessing.

The Gemara then asks why rain is mentioned specifically in that blessing. In earlier times, society was primarily agricultural. People were farmers, and their livelihood depended on the rain. If it rained, they had a successful year. The main source of livelihood was the rain. Therefore, it would make sense to mention rain in the blessing in which we pray for livelihood. The Gemara responds that the blessing of livelihood is the blessing of the years, whereas the blessing of the revival of the dead is appropriate because rain revives the earth.

Regarding Havdalah in the blessing of discernment, Rav Yosef explains that it is because discernment is wisdom. A wise person knows how to distinguish between things. Therefore, the best blessing for Havdalah is the blessing of wisdom. The essence of Havdalah is distinguishing between the sacred and the ordinary, which requires discernment.

It is possible that Rashi had a different version of the text of the Havdalah insertion, because Rashi also mentions distinguishing between tamei and tahor, impure and pure, whereas that wording is not found in our version. There may have been different versions of the Havdalah text.

The Rabbis, however, say that Havdalah is placed in an ordinary weekday blessing because Havdalah announces that Shabbat has ended and the weekday has begun. What is the first blessing of the weekday? “You graciously grant knowledge.” The first three blessings are standard, so the earliest point at which Havdalah can be inserted is the beginning of the weekday blessings. As soon as the weekday begins, we say, “You graciously grant knowledge,” and Havdalah is inserted there.

The Ben Ish Chai offers an explanation based on the order of the blessings of Havdalah. First we make the blessing over wine, which corresponds to the mouth. Then we make the blessing over fragrant spices, corresponding to the nose. Then we make the blessing over the flame, corresponding to the eyes. Finally, we make the blessing of Havdalah, which corresponds to knowledge and the mind. The order ascends according to the faculties involved: the mouth, the nose, the eyes, and finally the mind, which distinguishes.

Rav Ami says, “Great is knowledge.” The Gemara explains that knowledge was placed at the beginning of the weekday blessings. Clearly, the reference is to intellect and discernment. As the Gemara says elsewhere, if one has knowledge, what is he lacking? If he lacks knowledge, what has he acquired? Knowledge is therefore the first blessing of the Amidah. We begin by asking that a person have the ability to understand, because knowledge is the key.

Rabbi Chaim, of blessed memory, used to say that he prayed to retain his knowledge until the end of his life. Other parts of his body might fail, he said, but he did not want his knowledge to be taken away. Once a person loses his knowledge, he has lost his life. Knowledge is everything. The Holy One, blessed be He, answered him, and he retained a clear mind until the end. I was present when people came to him at the end of his life, when he was unwell, and asked him business questions and questions about reconciling matters for them. He answered them with full clarity.

Rav Hamnuna says that knowledge is great because it was placed between two names of God. Rashi explains that “letters” in this context means the two divine names. We do not refer to God’s name as an ordinary word, because the divine name consists of letters. The verse says, “For the God of knowledge is the Lord.” The word “knowledge” is situated between one name of God on one side and another name of God on the other. It is therefore surrounded by divine names.

The Maharsha points out that the knowledge being discussed here is divine inspiration. If a person possesses divine inspiration, that is obviously something divine, something that comes from the Holy One, blessed be He. Since it is surrounded by the names of God, it is clearly significant.

The Gemara then says that anyone who lacks knowledge may not be treated with compassion. This cannot mean that a person who lacks divine inspiration may not be treated compassionately. The simple meaning must be that he lacks the basic intelligence to recognize a kindness done for him. The verse says, “For they are a people of no understanding; therefore their Maker will not have compassion on them.”

The Steipler, in Birkat Peretz, explains that if a person lacks the knowledge to recognize what someone has done for him, he will not show gratitude. If one does him a favor, he will not acknowledge it or reciprocate. In such a case, helping him may actually cause him to sin, because it allows his bad character traits to emerge. Therefore, the Gemara says that one should not have compassion on him—not because he lacks divine inspiration, but because he lacks the ordinary discernment needed to recognize and appreciate a kindness.

Rabbi Elazar then says that the Temple is great because it too is placed between two divine names. The verse says, “The Sanctuary of the Lord, the Sanctuary of the Lord.” The word “Sanctuary” stands between two names of God. Rabbi Elazar continues: whoever possesses knowledge, it is as if the Temple was built in his days. Knowledge is between two divine names, and the Temple is also between two divine names. Therefore, a person who has knowledge is considered, to a certain degree, as though he built the Temple in his days—not physically, but because he possesses the same essential quality and intention.

Rashi explains that the general rule is that whenever a word is placed between two divine names, it must refer to something great. The Temple is great, and knowledge is great.

The Gemara challenges this principle: if so, revenge must also be great, because it too is placed between two divine names. The verse says, “God of retributions, Lord.” “God of retributions” is between two divine names. The Gemara answers that revenge can be good in certain circumstances. Ulla says that there are two forms of revenge: one for good and one for harm.

The revenge for good is described in the verse, “He has repaid me according to my righteousness.” The revenge for harm is described in the verse, “God of retributions, Lord; God of retributions, appear.” The Maharsha explains that one of these references is to the time when the Torah was offered to the nations. They rejected it, and the consequence was a form of revenge for harm: they did not receive the Torah. Instead, the Torah was given to the Jewish people. That became revenge for good for us, because we received the laws of the Torah.

For example, the law states that if an ox belonging to a Jew damages an ox belonging to a non-Jew, the Jewish owner is exempt. That is a positive form of revenge for us, resulting from the nations’ rejection of the Torah. It is revenge for them in a negative sense, but revenge for us in a positive sense. Sometimes an act of revenge has two sides.

The Maharsha further explains that one divine name represents the attribute of judgment, while the other represents mercy. Thus, the phrase contains judgment on one side and mercy on the other. The revenge directed against one party may simultaneously be mercy or benefit for another party.

I once heard from Rabbi Miller, of blessed memory, that the same idea applies when the Holy One, blessed be He, takes revenge against the nations, God forbid, through a great catastrophe such as an earthquake or tsunami. The event is terrible for one group, but it may be intended to awaken the Jewish people to repent. The verse says, “Has He made nations, and will He not destroy them?” Such an event can be a positive thing for the Jewish people if they understand the message and use it to repent.

We now begin the discussion of the placement of Havdalah. Rabbi Akiva says that it is a separate blessing. Rav Shaman bar Abba asks Rabbi Yochanan: the Men of the Great Assembly established blessings, prayers, sanctifications, and Havdalot for Israel. They established all the blessings of the Amidah, as well as Kiddush and Havdalah. If so, how could there be a dispute about where Havdalah was instituted? Was it a fourth blessing, was it inserted into the blessing of discernment, or was it inserted into Modim? The Men of the Great Assembly established it in a particular place. How could that place have been forgotten?

Rabbi Yochanan answers that initially they established Havdalah in the prayer. Later, when the people became wealthy and everyone could afford wine, they established Havdalah over a cup. Once they established it over a cup, the original institution of saying it in the prayer was forgotten. Rashi explains that the enactment of Ezra was forgotten.

Eventually, the people lost their wealth and became poor, and they returned to reciting Havdalah in the prayer. By that time, however, they had forgotten where in the prayer it belonged. They did not have printed prayer books, and they prayed by heart. The Gemara is therefore explaining how it was possible for an enactment to be forgotten. If there had been an unbroken chain in which everyone always recited Havdalah in the Amidah, it probably would not have been forgotten. But there was a period when they recited it only over a cup, and during that period the earlier location in the prayer was forgotten.

At that point they enacted that anyone who recited Havdalah in the prayer should also recite it over a cup. If a person could afford wine, he had to do both. The Gemara repeats this teaching in the name of Rabbi Chiya bar Abba in the name of Rabbi Yochanan: the Men of the Great Assembly initially established Havdalah in the prayer; when the people became wealthy, they established it over a cup; when they became poor in exile, they returned to the prayer; and then they said that one who makes Havdalah in the prayer must also make Havdalah over a cup. Rabbah and Rav Yosef likewise teach that one who makes Havdalah in the prayer must make Havdalah over a cup.

Rav Abba raises a difficulty from the wording of the Mishnah. The Mishnah says that if someone forgets to mention rain in the blessing of the revival of the dead, or forgets to ask for rain in the blessing of the years, or forgets Havdalah in the blessing of discernment, he must go back. This implies that Havdalah in the prayer is the primary requirement. Yet the earlier teaching sounds as though Havdalah over a cup is merely a backup. If a person made Havdalah in the prayer, he need not make it over a cup, but if he did not make it in the prayer, he can make it over a cup.

Rashi explains the difficulty. One might have thought that if a person does not want to repeat the Amidah, he can rely on Havdalah over a cup. But the reason he does not repeat the Amidah should not be that Havdalah over a cup is merely optional. Rather, it should be because he has made Havdalah over the cup, and both are required. The cup is not simply an alternative that allows him to avoid repeating the prayer.

Rabbi Binyamin bar Yefet says that Rabbi Yosef asked Rabbi Yochanan in Sidon whether someone who made Havdalah in the prayer must also make Havdalah over a cup. Rabbi Yochanan answered that he must. The question was then reversed: if someone made Havdalah over a cup, must he also make Havdalah in the prayer? Rav Nachman bar Yitzchak answers that this follows by a logical inference. If Havdalah in the prayer—the original enactment—still requires Havdalah over a cup, then Havdalah over a cup, which was instituted later, certainly requires Havdalah in the prayer. If the primary enactment requires the additional one, the secondary enactment cannot exempt the primary one.

It was taught that one who makes Havdalah in both places is especially praiseworthy. May blessings rest upon his head. The Gemara immediately identifies a contradiction. One statement implies that a person who makes Havdalah in the prayer is more praiseworthy than one who makes it over a cup, suggesting that prayer alone is sufficient. Another statement says that one who makes Havdalah in both places is praiseworthy, implying that both are required.

The Gemara resolves the contradiction by saying that the correct wording is: if he made Havdalah in one place and did not make it in the other, blessings should rest upon his head. He does not need to do both; either prayer or the cup is sufficient. The Maharsha explains that if a person is particular to ensure that he does not miss Havdalah, this itself demonstrates honor for Shabbat. Since Shabbat was given for rest, measure for measure, blessings rest upon him because he took care to honor Shabbat by making Havdalah. According to this reading, one need not make Havdalah in both places. One is sufficient.

This position disputes the earlier teaching that both are required. The Gemara then asks about a person who missed Havdalah in both places. The case is that he prayed the evening prayer without saying the Havdalah insertion, and he also did not make Havdalah over a cup. More specifically, he ate before making Havdalah. Once he ate, he could no longer make Havdalah in the ordinary manner, because it is forbidden to eat before Havdalah.

The question is whether eating before Havdalah requires him to repeat the evening prayer and now include the Havdalah insertion. The answer is that he must repeat the prayer. Rashi explains that he must begin again and make Havdalah over a cup as well, depending on the circumstances and the day. Even though he ate, he still has to make Havdalah as long as it is still before the time when Havdalah may no longer be made.

Normally, if a person recited the Havdalah insertion in the prayer and then ate before making Havdalah over a cup, his eating would be improper, but it would not invalidate the prayer. Here, however, he committed two errors: he failed to say Havdalah in the prayer, and he ate before making Havdalah. Therefore, the Sages required him to repeat the prayer. This is a useful example of a case in which a person forgot the Havdalah insertion in the evening prayer and must repeat the Amidah.

Ravina asks Rabbanan about the relationship between Havdalah in the prayer and Havdalah over a cup. There are two versions of Rashi regarding the question. Rabbi Yochanan answers by comparing Havdalah to Kiddush. Just as with Kiddush, when a person sanctifies Shabbat in the prayer, he must also sanctify it over a cup, so too with Havdalah: when a person makes Havdalah in the prayer, he must also make Havdalah over a cup. The verse says “Remember” and “Observe,” which teaches that Kiddush is made both in the prayer and over a cup. Similarly, Havdalah is made both in the prayer and over a cup. This is the halachic conclusion.

Rabbi Eliezer says that Havdalah is inserted in the blessing of thanksgiving. Rabbi Zeira was riding on a donkey, with his attendant traveling behind him. Even while traveling, they were studying Torah. Rabbi Zeira asked the attendant to repeat a teaching of Rabbi Eliezer. The attendant said that Rabbi Eliezer had taught that Havdalah is inserted in Modim. Rabbi Zeira then asked whether Rabbi Eliezer had said this as a definite ruling or whether he was raising it as a question. The answer was that he had said it definitively.

The Gemara asks about Yom Tov that immediately follows Shabbat. In that case, the ordinary weekday blessing of discernment is not recited. Where does one insert Havdalah? The Rabbis agree that it is inserted in Modim, because one must nevertheless distinguish between the sanctity of Shabbat and the sanctity of Yom Tov. Rabbi Yochanan therefore states that in the case of Yom Tov following Shabbat, the halachah follows Rabbi Eliezer and Havdalah is said in Modim.

The Gemara challenges the use of the word “halachah.” The word halachah usually indicates that there is a dispute and that we are ruling according to one side. But in this case, the Rabbis themselves would agree that Havdalah is placed in Modim, since there is no weekday blessing of discernment. Why, then, is it necessary to say that the halachah follows Rabbi Eliezer?

The Gemara answers that Rabbi Akiva might still have been an alternative. Rabbi Akiva says that Havdalah is a separate blessing. Perhaps one might think that even on Yom Tov following Shabbat, one should recite a separate blessing. Rabbi Yochanan therefore teaches that the halachah follows Rabbi Eliezer, excluding Rabbi Akiva.

The Gemara raises another objection. We do not follow Rabbi Akiva throughout the year. The Sages established an Amidah of nineteen blessings rather than Rabbi Akiva’s additional blessing, and on Yom Tov they established seven blessings rather than eight. Why would anyone think that we follow Rabbi Akiva specifically on Yom Tov following Shabbat? There is no need to state that the halachah excludes him.

The Gemara therefore says that Rabbi Yochanan did not actually use the word halachah. He said that the practice is to insert Havdalah in Modim on Yom Tov following Shabbat. There are different expressions used by the Sages to communicate a ruling. Halachah means that one publicly teaches and announces the ruling. A more limited expression means that if someone asks privately, one tells him what to do, but one does not necessarily make a public announcement. Another expression means that this is the accepted practice. Yet another means that this is merely the apparent ruling, and it is acceptable after the fact even if someone acted differently.

The Gemara records several versions. One says that Rabbi Yitzchak bar Avdimi stated the matter in the name of his teacher as a halachah. Another says that it was stated as a private ruling. Rabbi Yochanan said that the accepted practice is to place Havdalah in Modim. Rabbi Chiya bar Avya said that this was merely the apparent ruling, meaning that if someone did place it in Modim, he need not repeat the prayer.

The Gemara asks why, among all the versions, we should rely on Rabbi Chiya bar Avya’s wording. It answers that Rabbi Chiya bar Avya was extremely precise in transmitting the exact language of his teachers. He listened carefully to every word and preserved the precise expression he had heard. He was like Rabbah of Pumbedita, who was known for transmitting a teaching in exactly the language in which he had received it.

For example, the Gemara discusses benches in the study hall. There were rows of benches, one inside and one outside. The more common word for a bench was one term, but Rabbah used the word he had heard from his teacher, even though another word was more commonly used. He did not alter his teacher’s terminology. Similarly, Rabbi Chiya bar Avya was careful to distinguish whether Rabbi Yochanan had said halachah, a private ruling, the accepted practice, or merely the apparent position. Therefore, we rely on his version.

Rashi explains that Rabbi Chiya bar Avya would make mental signs to remember the precise wording, so that he would not confuse the different expressions. Since there were several possibilities, he made himself signs to preserve whether the statement was a public ruling, a private instruction, an accepted practice, or merely an after-the-fact allowance.

Rav Yosef says, “I do not know what the ruling is.” He does not know whether it is a private ruling, an accepted practice, or merely an apparent position. However, he knows that Havdalah is not inserted in Modim on a regular weekday. Instead, the special wording used on Yom Tov following Shabbat is recited in the blessing that begins, “You have chosen us.” That blessing contains the special text describing the distinction between Shabbat and Yom Tov.

The text says that God has distinguished between sacred and ordinary, between light and darkness, between Israel and the nations, and between the seventh day and the six days of labor. It then speaks of the holiness of Shabbat and the holiness of Yom Tov, and thanks God for sanctifying Shabbat, Israel, and the seasons. This is not one of the three views mentioned earlier. It is a special formulation for Yom Tov following Shabbat, and it is not placed in Modim.

Rashi explains that the special insertion is placed in the blessing that begins, “You have granted us,” where we mention the festival, rather than in the regular blessing of discernment. Thus, the conclusion is that on Yom Tov following Shabbat, one uses this special formulation in the blessing of the festival.

The Mishnah then discusses a person who says, “Just as You had mercy on the mother bird and commanded that she be sent away before taking the young, so too have mercy upon us.” The person is turning the commandment of sending away the mother bird into an explanation for the commandment. He is saying that the reason for the mitzvah is God’s compassion for the mother bird.

The Mishnah says that if someone prays in this manner, or says, “May Your name be mentioned for good,” or repeats the word “thank You” twice, he is silenced. The Gemara asks why it is obvious that a person who repeats “thank You” must be silenced. It appears as though he is addressing two authorities or two deities. The repetition creates the impression that he believes there are two gods.

Why, however, is a person silenced when he says, “May Your name be mentioned for good”? This sounds as though he thanks God only for the good and not for the bad. Yet we learned that a person must bless God for the bad just as he blesses Him for the good. Everything comes from the same God. The Gemara therefore understands that the problem is not merely that he mentions the good and omits the bad.

The problem with saying, “Just as You had mercy on the mother bird” is that he is creating jealousy within creation, so to speak. He implies that God has mercy on the mother bird but not on other creatures. The point is not that creation literally becomes jealous, but that the statement presents an incorrect theological implication, as though God’s compassion is limited to the mother bird because of this commandment.

Furthermore, the person is presenting the reason for the commandment as though it were obvious. He is saying that the commandment is logical and that compassion is its explanation. But when a person performs a commandment only because he understands its logic, he is submitting himself to his own reasoning rather than to the will of the Holy One, blessed be He. The proper attitude is, “It is a decree that I have decreed; you have no right to question it.” We perform the commandment because God commanded it.

The Gemara proves that the commandment cannot simply be explained as compassion. If the reason were compassion for the mother bird, how could the Torah permit us to slaughter animals and eat them? We do not know that the commandment is based on compassion. The commandments are decrees through which God informs Israel that they are His servants and must observe His commandments, decrees, and statutes, even when the reasons are not known.

The nations mock Israel because of commandments such as the red heifer and the prohibition against mixing meat and milk. They ask what logic these commandments have. The answer is that their purpose is not necessarily to satisfy human logic. They are decrees of the Torah, and we perform them because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded them.

The Gemara tells of a person who came before Rabbah to serve as the prayer leader. He said, “Just as You had mercy on the mother bird and sent her away, so too have mercy upon us.” Rabbah exclaimed, “How much this young man knows about appeasing his Creator!” Abaye said to him, “But we learned that such a person is silenced.” Rabbah responded that he was merely testing Abaye and sharpening his understanding. He knew that the Mishnah says the person must be silenced, and he deliberately praised the prayer in order to see whether Abaye would recognize the problem.

The Ben Ish Chai derives from this that one may sometimes say something untrue for the sake of sharpening a student’s understanding. A teacher may pretend to praise an incorrect answer so that the student will recognize the difficulty and respond. The purpose is not deception for its own sake, but to sharpen the student.

He gives a similar example regarding the stories used by teachers. A rabbi may say, “There was once a person named Reuven who came to me with this question,” even when there was no actual Reuven. Presenting it as a real case makes the student listen more carefully and take the matter seriously. The Ben Ish Chai says that many of the cases he writes in Torah Lishmah were constructed for this purpose. When a person hears that something actually happened, he pays closer attention. This is another example of deliberately presenting something in a way that sharpens the listener.

The Gemara then discusses excessive praise of God. Rabbi Hanina says that one who praises God excessively should be silenced. What more can a person say after the praises that we already recite—“the great, mighty, and awesome”? If Moses, who was the greatest human being, and the Men of the Great Assembly, who established the prayer, did not add further praise, how can we continue adding praise?

The point is that a person cannot finish praising God. If he keeps adding praises and then stops, it sounds as though he has reached the end and has completed the praise. In truth, no human being can adequately praise the Holy One, blessed be He. We recite the three praises only because Moses and the Men of the Great Assembly established them. Without that precedent, we would not even say those three. Moses already offered the greatest praise possible, so a person should not add his own list of praises.

Sometimes, when people introduce a rabbi, they say, “There is nothing we can say about him.” Often this means that they did not prepare anything to say. But it can also mean that the person is so well known that no introduction is necessary. The Gemara’s point is similar: if we cannot adequately praise God, adding more and more praise does not solve the problem. It may actually suggest that the praises can be completed.

The Gemara compares this to a king who asked a loyal friend to prepare a banquet. The friend spent his own money and arranged the entire banquet, but he appeared unhappy. The king’s enemies told the king, “Look at your friend. He is not even happy at the banquet. He had to spend his own money, and he does not want to spend anything on you.” The king wondered whether they were right. He decided to test the matter. He asked the friend to prepare another banquet, but this time he gave him the money to pay for it.

At the second banquet, the friend was very happy. The king became angry. He said, “When he had to spend his own money, he was unhappy; when I paid for everything, he was happy. What kind of friend is he?” He called the man in and asked him to explain himself.

The friend replied, “When I had to spend my own money, I knew that whatever I spent would never be enough. I was constantly thinking that I had not fulfilled my obligation, because no matter how much I spent, it would not be a worthy banquet for the king. But when you gave me a budget, I knew that I had fulfilled my obligation. I spent exactly what you gave me and did precisely what you asked.”

This is the idea expressed in Nishmat. If we had unlimited abilities, we would never be able to fulfill our obligation to praise God, because even unlimited praise would not be enough. But God gave us limited abilities. He gave us a limited mouth, limited limbs, and a limited capacity. Within those limitations, we can say that we have done what we were capable of doing.

Nishmat says that even if our mouths were full of song like the sea, our tongues rejoiced like the multitude of its waves, our lips were as wide as the heavens, our hands were spread out like the sun, and our feet were as swift as the deer, we still could not thank God for even one thousandth or one millionth of all that He has done. We would be like superhuman beings and still would not be able to fulfill our obligation.

At first, this seems contradictory. If even superhuman beings could not praise God adequately, how can ordinary people praise Him? The answer is found in the continuation of Nishmat: therefore, the limbs that You have arranged within us, and the mouth and abilities You have given us, praise, honor, and glorify You. Since God gave us a limited capacity, He gave us a budget. We are not expected to do what is beyond our ability. We are expected to use the abilities He gave us.

If we had an unlimited, open-ended ability to praise God, we would never finish and would never know whether we had fulfilled our obligation. Because we are limited, we can say that we have used what God gave us. This is the meaning of “sometimes more is less.” If one adds unlimited praise, one never completes the task. When one recognizes one’s limitations and uses the limited ability God provided, one can fulfill the obligation to the extent that a human being is able.

With that, we conclude this discussion of the Gemara.