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

Daf Yomi

Sanhedrin 20A - 20B (12th Cycle Daf Yomi Shiur)

Lectured by Rabbi Eli Mansour

Published
April 17, 2007
Duration
61:49

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.

Rabbi Hanina learns from here that when a person raises an orphan, or raises someone else’s child in his home, the Torah considers it as though he had given birth to that child. That child is considered his own.

The verse says that when Ruth had her baby, a child was born to Naomi. But Naomi was Ruth’s former mother-in-law; she had not given birth to the child. Ruth had the baby. Why, then, does the verse say that a child was born to Naomi? The answer is: Ruth gave birth, but Naomi raised the child. Therefore, the child is attributed to Naomi as well.

Another verse provides the same proof. The verse speaks about Batya, the daughter of Pharaoh. Batya married a man named Mered, and the verse says that she had a child named Avigedor. The Gemara asks: Who was this man called Mered? He was Caleb son of Jephunneh. He was called Mered, meaning “the rebel,” because he rebelled against the advice of the spies.

Batya married Caleb, and the verse says that Batya had Avigedor. Who was Avigedor? Moses was called Avigedor; this was one of his names. Batya did not give birth to Moses. Jochebed gave birth to him, while Batya raised him. Therefore, the verse attributes Moses to Batya. This is another proof that raising someone else’s child is considered as though one had given birth to him.

A further proof comes from the verse that says, “You redeemed the children of Jacob and Joseph.” Joseph did not have the tribes; Jacob did. Why, then, does the verse refer to the children of both Jacob and Joseph? Jacob gave birth to them, while Joseph sustained them. When they were in Egypt, Joseph fed them and supported them. We therefore learn that not only is raising someone’s child considered like having given birth to him, but sustaining and supporting someone’s child is also considered as though one had borne him.

Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah said in the name of Rabbi Jonathan that anyone who teaches Torah to his friend’s son is considered by the Torah as though he had fathered him.

The Torah lists the descendants of Aaron and Moses. One might ask: Does the Torah give us only Aaron’s children? The answer is that Aaron was born, while Moses raised and taught his children. Therefore, when the Torah lists their descendants, it mentions Aaron’s children because they are considered like Moses’ children as well. Moses taught them Torah, and teaching them was considered as though he had fathered them.

The Gemara then discusses the verse, “So says the Lord to the house of Jacob, who redeemed Abraham.” Did Jacob redeem Abraham? Where do we find that Jacob saved Abraham?

Rabbi Judah explains that Jacob saved Abraham from having to bear the suffering of raising the tribes. The tribes should really have been born to Abraham, but instead Jacob had them. Thus, the verse says that Jacob redeemed Abraham from that burden.

The verse says that God blessed Abraham, “and I will greatly multiply your descendants.” Abraham was supposed to bear the burden associated with those descendants, but Jacob took that burden upon himself. This is also what another verse means when it says, “Jacob will not be ashamed, and his face will not grow pale.” Jacob does not have to be embarrassed before his father or his grandfather. Normally, as the generations descend, they become spiritually weaker. In Jacob’s case, however, the opposite occurred. He was greater in certain respects than Abraham and Isaac. He is therefore considered the chosen one among the patriarchs, and he does not have to be ashamed before either his father or his grandfather.

We now return to the story of Palti. We learned on the previous page that David the king married Michal, while Saul maintained that the marriage was not valid. Saul therefore took his daughter Michal and gave her to a man named Palti son of Laish.

Palti was a righteous man. He agreed with David and believed that Michal was genuinely married to David. Although Saul gave Michal to him, Palti did not touch her. He kept his distance from her.

One verse calls him Palti, while another calls him Paltiel. Rabbi Johanan says that his name was Palti. Why, then, was he called Paltiel? It means that God saved him. Palti certainly exercised self-control, but God gave him divine assistance to save him from having relations with Michal.

Palti took a sword and placed it between himself and Michal. He said that anyone who engages in such a sin should be struck by the sword.

Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz asks: What was the point of placing the sword between them? Palti himself had put the sword there. If he later wanted to be intimate with Michal, he could simply remove it. How did the sword protect him?

He explains that Palti wanted to remind himself, at the moment when his understanding was clear, that the relationship was forbidden. He knew that later he might waver. In order to preserve the clarity of that moment, and to remember how convinced and committed he had been, he froze the moment in time by taking action: he placed the sword between them.

Even if he later thought that perhaps the relationship was permitted, he could look at the sword and remind himself, “I already considered this matter. It was so clear to me that I placed a sword between us.” The sword served as a reminder and helped prevent him from falling back.

Nevertheless, the verse calls Michal “the wife of Palti.” The Gemara explains that she was not actually his wife. She was like his wife because he raised her and cared for her, and he treated her like a wife, but he never had relations with her.

When David eventually took Michal, Palti cried. If he had never been intimate with her, why did he cry when David took her away? The Gemara answers that he was crying because he had lost the opportunity to perform the mitzvah of self-control. As long as Michal was with him, he was able to control his inclination and receive the reward for abstaining. Once David took her, Palti lost that opportunity. That is why he cried.

The verse says that when they went to the city of Bahurim, they both were like young people who had not tasted the taste of intimacy, because they had not been with one another.

The Gemara compares three righteous men: Palti son of Laish, Boaz, and Joseph the Righteous. It says that each one was greater than the next.

Joseph’s abstention from relations with Potiphar’s wife was considered a small matter compared with what Boaz did. Boaz’s accomplishment was itself considered a small matter compared with what Palti son of Laish did. Thus, Palti was considered the greatest of the three.

What happened with Boaz? It was the middle of the night. Boaz was in his tent in the field, and Ruth came to him. She wanted to be with him. Before doing anything, however, Boaz had to clarify all the relevant laws to make sure that the relationship would be permitted.

The verse says that Boaz was frightened and shaken. The expression indicates that his flesh became like the head of a turnip. In other words, he experienced desire. Rashi writes that despite this, he controlled himself. Ruth was single, she entered his bed, and he still faced a serious test. He controlled himself even under those circumstances.

Joseph also faced a test, but Potiphar’s wife was a married woman, which made it an easier test in that respect. In addition, she was not in bed with him. Therefore, as great as Joseph’s action was, Boaz faced a more difficult test.

The Gemara says that Boaz’s test was as great as Palti’s sword, but Palti’s test was even greater. Palti faced a constant test. Michal was considered his wife because Saul had given her to him, and they lived together for many years. He could have rationalized the situation by saying that she was his wife and that Saul had given her to him. His test was therefore continuous and lasted for years.

Rabbi Johanan explains the verse from the passage describing the woman of valor: “Many women have performed valiantly, but you surpass them all.” “Many women have performed valiantly” refers to Joseph and Boaz, while “you surpass them all” refers to Palti son of Laish.

Rabbi Johanan also explains the verse, “Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain.” Palti did not pursue charm, and he did not allow his own handsomeness and beauty to take him away from the proper path. Nor did he pursue Ruth’s beauty. The fear of God is the highest level, and to remain under such a test for so long represented the highest level of self-control.

The Gemara then discusses the greatest generations in Torah study. One explanation refers to the generation of Moses, another to the generation of Joshua, and the highest level to the generation of Hezekiah.

In the time of Hezekiah, everyone studied Torah, from Dan to Beersheba. There was not even one unlearned person. In the time of Moses, it appears that there were still unlearned people, and the same was true in the time of Joshua. In the time of Hezekiah, however, they spread oil throughout the Land of Israel, and the lights of the study halls burned twenty-four hours a day. As a result, they could test even a little girl from any city in Israel, and she knew all the complicated laws of ritual impurity and purity. That was considered the greatest generation in Torah.

What was so special about the generation of Moses? The people studied Torah despite tremendous poverty. Six students had to share one cloak in order to study Torah. The other generations had the manna and other forms of support, so their circumstances could not be compared with those of the generation of Moses.

Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz offers another explanation. How could six people fit under one cloak? The only way it could work was if each person tried to cover the person next to him. Normally, when a person shares a covering, he pulls it toward himself and leaves the other person uncovered. But if six people managed to share one cloak, it meant that each person was trying to cover the others. The greatness of that generation was therefore its unity and love: each student was concerned for the welfare of the others. That was considered the highest level.

The Mishnah now begins discussing the king. If the king suffers a bereavement in his family, he does not leave the palace. It is not considered respectful for the king to grieve in public. Rabbi Judah says that if the king wants to leave, he may do so after the funeral has passed. As he said earlier, if he wishes, he may follow the bier.

A precedent is brought from David the king. David followed the bier of a friend who had died. This appears to show clearly that a king may attend a funeral and follow the coffin.

They answered Rabbi Judah that this was not the reason David went. The story concerns Abner. Abner had been the general of Saul. After Saul’s death, David became king in Jerusalem, while Abner appointed Ish-bosheth, the son of Saul, to be king over the rest of Israel.

As a result, Joab son of Zeruiah, who was David’s general, went and killed Abner. David wanted to show the people that he had not been behind Abner’s death and had not ordered it. He therefore attended the funeral in order to make it clear that he had not authorized the killing.

David feared that if the people thought he had arranged Abner’s death, they would depose him and remove him from the kingship. Therefore, he went to the funeral for a special reason. He did not attend simply because a king is permitted to follow the bier.

When a king is given the first meal of consolation after the burial, everyone sits with him on the ground, while he sits on a dargash, a particular type of bed.

The Sages taught that in a place where the custom is for the women to walk behind the coffin, they may do so; it is a legitimate custom. In a place where the custom is for the women to walk in front of the coffin, they may do that as well. Rabbi Judah says that the women always walk in front.

Rabbi Judah brings proof from David, who walked behind the coffin. One can assume that David walked with the men and would not walk together with the women. If David was behind the bier, it would appear that the women were in front of it.

Rashi explains that this is not necessarily proof. The people wanted David to leave the palace and appear among them. David therefore went out among the people. It says that all the people of Israel came to him and saw that there was no king to build the city. David may have gone among both the women and the men because he wanted everyone to know that he had attended Abner’s funeral and had not authorized his death.

When the verse says that he was behind the bier, he may have been directly behind it. He was not necessarily mingling with the women; he may simply have been standing there so that both the women and the men would see him. Therefore, there is no proof about where the women stood at the funeral.

Rava expounds another verse. One verse says that they came to give David a meal of consolation after Abner’s death. Another verse uses a word that is read as meaning “to cut him down” or “to kill him,” but is read aloud as referring to giving him a meal. What did the people want to do to David—give him a meal or kill him?

Initially, they thought that David had been behind Abner’s death. Therefore, the written form of the verse indicates that they wanted to kill him. In the end, when they realized how deeply David mourned and understood that he had not been involved in the killing, they came to feed him and take care of him.

Rabbi Judah said in the name of Rav: Why was Abner punished with death? He had the opportunity to rebuke Saul but did not do so. When Saul killed the entire city of Nob, the priests, he had accepted Doeg’s slanderous report and killed them. Abner could have rebuked Saul and prevented the massacre. Because he failed to do so, he was punished.

Rabbi Isaac disagrees. He says that Abner did rebuke Saul, but Saul did not listen to him. Abner therefore cannot be blamed for the result.

Both opinions are learned from the same verse, from the eulogy that David delivered for Abner son of Ner. David said, “Should Abner die as a fool? Your hands were not bound, and your feet were not shackled.”

According to the opinion that Abner did not rebuke Saul, David was saying: Your hands were not tied and your feet were not shackled. You had the ability to speak. Why, then, did you not rebuke him? You had the opportunity to act, and because you failed to do so, you fell like a sinner.

According to the opinion that Abner did rebuke Saul, the verse is rhetorical. David was saying: Why did Abner die in this manner? His hands were not tied, and his feet were not shackled. He did what he was supposed to do. He did offer rebuke. Why, then, did he die in such a way? David was expressing his grief and astonishment that Abner had died despite having done the right thing.

If Abner did rebuke Saul, why was he punished? Rabbi Nahman bar Isaac answers that Abner delayed David’s becoming king over all Israel by two and a half years.

Abner was the one who appointed Ish-bosheth, the son of Saul, as king over the rest of Israel. Eventually, Ish-bosheth was removed and David became king over all Israel, but this created a delay of two and a half years. If Abner had not appointed Ish-bosheth, David could have become king two and a half years earlier.

Rashi provides the chronology. After Saul died, David became king in Hebron and ruled there for seven years and six months. There was a five-year gap between Saul’s death and Ish-bosheth’s becoming king. Subtracting those five years from David’s seven and a half years in Hebron leaves two and a half years. Those were the years by which David’s kingship over all Israel was delayed. That delay was Abner’s punishment.

We now return to the question of the dargash. When the king is given the meal of consolation, everyone sits on the ground while the king sits on the dargash. What is a dargash?

Ulla says that it is a bed of good fortune. In the passage concerning the birth of Gad, Leah said that good fortune had come. The dargash was therefore called a bed of good fortune, so to speak, because it was associated with good fortune.

The Sages challenged this explanation. Until now, the king had never sat on such a bed. Why would they now place the king on a bed on which he had never sat before? That would be too great a deviation from the king’s usual practice.

Rava challenges the objection. There are other changes as well. Until now, the king ate only food from his own household. At the meal of consolation, however, he eats food provided by others. If he is permitted to make that change, why can he not also sit on a different type of bed?

The Gemara raises another difficulty. In the old days, when mourning took place in a home, all the beds were overturned as a sign of mourning. The beds were turned upside down. The law, however, says that the dargash does not have to be overturned; it may simply be placed upright. If a dargash is a type of bed, why is it not overturned like all other beds?

Perhaps the dargash is like a bed designated for placing vessels on it, rather than for sleeping or sitting. Such an item does not have to be overturned. The question, however, remains unresolved.

The Gemara raises another difficulty. The Sages taught that with regard to the dargash, the mourner loosens its straps, and the leather falls to the ground. Why would a dargash have straps of this kind? If it is merely a bed of good fortune, it should not have such straps.

Someone who was familiar with the marketplace of the tanners explained the matter. A dargash is a different type of bed, made of leather. A large piece of leather is stretched across the frame. Straps extend from the edges of the leather, and the straps are tied around the poles of the frame. When the straps are untied, the leather falls to the ground. These straps are what the Sages called the loops.

Normally, one would not turn such a bed over during mourning because the leather would be damaged. If the bed were turned upside down, the leather would lie directly on the ground. In those days, the ground was made of dirt, and moisture would ruin the leather. Therefore, instead of turning the dargash over, the mourner would leave it upright, loosen the straps, and allow the leather to fall to the ground. The leather itself would remain above the ground, while the lower part of the frame would touch the ground.

Another explanation says that the dargash was woven through holes in its frame. The leather straps were threaded in and out of the frame itself. This differs from an ordinary bed, in which the woven material rests on top of the frame. In the dargash, the straps passed through the holes in the frame.

The Gemara raises a question from the laws of wooden vessels. A wooden vessel becomes susceptible to ritual impurity only when it reaches its finished stage. A bed or cradle reaches that stage when it is smoothed with fish skins, which were used to polish the wood.

If the bed was woven over the frame so that the frame was not visible, why would the frame need to be smoothed? It would not be seen. The Gemara answers that both the bed and the dargash were woven through the frame. The frame was exposed, and therefore it had to be smoothed. The difference was that in an ordinary bed, the straps passed through holes in the frame itself, while in the dargash they passed through loops attached to the frame.

We learned earlier that in a mourner’s house, one opinion says that the dargash is not overturned but is placed on its side. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says that it does not even have to be placed on its side; its straps are simply untied, and the leather is allowed to fall to the ground.

Rabbi Jacob said in the name of Rabbi Joshua ben Nehemiah that the law follows Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel: the dargash does not have to be overturned. Its straps are loosened, and it is allowed to fall.

Rabbi Jacob also said in the name of Rabbi Joshua ben Nehemiah that a bed whose poles extend upward, like a canopy bed, cannot be overturned. In that case, it is stood upright in an unusual manner, and that is sufficient.

The Mishnah continues with the laws of the king. The king may wage an optional war. This does not refer to the wars commanded against the seven nations or against Amalek, but to wars undertaken to expand the borders, obtain spoils, or enlarge the cities. For such a war, he requires the permission of the seventy-one judges.

If the king wants to take a shortcut through someone’s field, he may break through a fence and pass through the field. No one can stop him. This is comparable to the principle of eminent domain. The king’s road has no fixed measure. He may widen the road as much as necessary, even if houses stand in its path, and he does not have to pay for what is demolished.

When the people go to war, they take the spoils and give them to the king. He receives the first portion and may choose whatever he wants. He then distributes a certain percentage back to the people.

If the king wants to reach his field or vineyard, he may cut through someone else’s field. He takes the best portion for himself, and half of the remaining spoils goes to the people.

The Mishnah appears to be repeating something already taught in the first Mishnah. We already know that a king does not go to war without the authorization of the seventy-one judges. Why does the Mishnah repeat the rule?

The answer is that the first Mishnah discusses the general laws of the king, while this Mishnah repeats the requirement specifically with regard to war. Since the matter of war is being discussed, the Mishnah teaches again that the king may go out only with the authorization of the seventy-one judges.

The Gemara discusses the passage concerning the king that Samuel presented to the Jewish people. When the people asked for a king, Samuel warned them that a king would make life difficult. He could take their sons into the army, take their money, and impose various burdens upon them.

Some Sages say that Samuel was trying to discourage the people from appointing a king, because he did not want them to have a king. Nevertheless, everything he said about the king’s authority was true. The laws stated in the passage concerning the king are genuine laws, and the king is permitted to do what is described there.

Rabbi Judah disagrees. He says that the passage concerning the king is not to be taken literally as a statement of halachic authority. Samuel said those things only to intimidate the people and frighten them away from appointing a king. He wanted to place fear of the king in their hearts.

This is a dispute among the Tannaim. Rabbi Joseph says that everything written in the passage concerning the king is permitted to the king. Rabbi Judah says that the passage was not intended as a legal description of the king’s powers, but only as a warning meant to intimidate the people and discourage them from asking for a king.

Rabbi Judah also says that the Jewish people were commanded to fulfill three mitzvot when they entered the Land of Israel: to appoint a king, to destroy Amalek, and to build the chosen house, the Temple.

Rabbi Nehorai says that the entire passage concerning the king was stated only in response to the people’s complaint. The book of Deuteronomy says that a time would come when the people would ask for a king. Samuel reacted by telling them what such a king would do. According to this view, the passage was not establishing the king’s authority; it was responding to the people’s request.

The elders of that generation asked Samuel for a king for proper reasons. They wanted justice and believed that a king would provide a proper judicial system. That was a legitimate reason. The ordinary people, however, spoiled the request by saying that they wanted to be like all the other nations and wanted a king who would lead them in war, as the other nations’ kings did.

The Gemara examines the order of the commandments. The verse indicates that there would first be a king, then the destruction of Amalek, and afterward the building of the Temple. The discussion considers which stage comes first and what is meant by the throne mentioned in the verse. The throne refers to establishing the kingship.

First, the king must be established. After that, the enemies must be removed, and then the chosen place can be established. The order is therefore kingship, the removal of Amalek, and the building of the Temple.

Another passage gives the same order. First, God relieved David from all his enemies. David then sat in his house and said that he was living in a beautiful house while God did not yet have a house. That led him to consider building the Temple. Thus, the order is that the king is established, God grants victory over the enemies, and afterward the Temple is built.

The Gemara now discusses the kingdom of Solomon. At first, King Solomon ruled over the upper beings, the destructive spirits, and the angels. This is indicated by the verse that speaks of sitting upon the throne of God. He then ruled over the entire world, as indicated by the verse describing peace on all sides.

Gradually, however, his kingdom diminished. He first ruled over the entire world, then only over the Land of Israel, then only over Jerusalem, then only over his bed, and finally only over his staff.

The verse says that he ruled from Tifsah to Gaza. Rav and Samuel disagree about the locations. One says that Tifsah and Gaza were at opposite ends of the world, meaning that Solomon ruled from one end of the world to the other. Another says that they were near one another, and that Solomon ruled the two surrounding regions with such force that his authority extended throughout the world.

In the end, however, Solomon lost his kingdom, and it became smaller and smaller. He ruled only over the Jewish people, then only over Israel, and finally only over Jerusalem. Ultimately, all that remained was his bed and then his staff.

Rav and Samuel disagree about what remained. One says that it was a staff; the other says that it was a toilet. Some versions, including one cited by Rav Hai Gaon, say that it was a small earthenware jug used for water. It was a small vessel, and that was all that remained of Solomon’s former kingdom.

The Gemara asks whether Solomon eventually returned to his original status. One opinion says that he did return. He lost everything but later regained his former position. Another opinion says that he did not return to his original status. He remained a king, became an ordinary person, and then became a king again.

As we learned elsewhere, the destructive spirit Ashmedai cast Solomon out. Solomon became an ordinary person. According to the other opinion, he later returned to the kingship: he was a king, became an ordinary person, and then became a king again.

The teachers of ethical conduct explain that the statement that Solomon was king over his staff, his bed, or his jug should not necessarily be understood literally. The point is that even after losing almost everything, Solomon maintained a certain sense of self-worth. He did not allow himself to fall into depression or become completely broken.

He told himself that he was still king over his staff, or king over his bed. These things had not been taken from him. He maintained the attitude that even over the little that remained, he still had authority.

A person’s experience depends greatly on how he thinks. A president may think that he rules the world, while another person may think, “I am at least king over my staff.” Even when a person possesses very little, he can preserve his dignity by recognizing the small measure of authority and responsibility that remains with him.

May God bless us all.