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Today’s page has been dedicated by Mr. Isaac Sheba in honor of his parents, Jack and Marilyn. May their memory be a blessing. Today’s page is being studied for the elevation of the soul of Avraham ben Ester, and for the recovery of Mazal bat Miriam, who is undergoing a serious operation. May she have a complete recovery. Amen.
We begin today’s page on 4b, four lines before the wide lines, with the word “It was stated.” The Gemara discusses the two days of the holiday observed in the Diaspora, outside Eretz Yisrael. According to Torah law, only the first and seventh days of the holiday are full festival days. In the Diaspora, however, an additional day was observed because there was originally a doubt about when the court had designated the new month. Had the court declared the thirtieth day to be the first of the month, or had it declared the following day to be the first? That uncertainty could affect whether the festival fell one day earlier or one day later.
Those living far from Eretz Yisrael did not always receive the announcement about the new month in time for the holiday. They therefore had to observe two days. The Gemara asks: If an egg was laid on the first day of the holiday in the Diaspora, may it be eaten on the second day?
One opinion says that an egg laid on the first day is permitted on the second day. Rav Asi, however, says that it is prohibited on the second day as well. The Gemara initially understands that Rav Asi must hold that the two days have the status of one extended sanctity. Since the two days instituted by the Sages are considered one long day, an egg laid on the first day remains prohibited on the second day.
The Gemara then challenges this understanding. We know that Rav Asi did not hold that the two days of the festival in the Diaspora were simply one extended day. Rav Asi himself observed two days in the Diaspora, yet he would make the separation ceremony after the first night of the festival. On the night following the first day, he would recite the blessing, “Who distinguishes between the holy and the ordinary.” This demonstrates that he regarded the second day as ordinary, at least in some sense, and not as part of one uninterrupted sanctity.
The Gemara answers that Rav Asi was uncertain about the precise nature of the second day. Perhaps, when the Sages instituted the second day, they intended it to have the full status of a festival, like the first day, even after the calendar had become fixed. Alternatively, perhaps the second day was observed only as a custom because of the original uncertainty, and it did not possess the full sanctity of the first day. Rav Asi therefore followed the stringency of both possibilities. If the two days constituted one sanctity, an egg laid on the first day would be prohibited on the second. If they were two distinct days and the second was actually ordinary, he would make the separation ceremony after the first day.
Rashi explains that the question is whether the Sages required the people of the Diaspora to observe two days even once the calendar was known, or whether the second day was instituted only because of the original uncertainty. If the Sages said that two days must always be observed even when the calendar is known, then the second day has the status of a festival. If, however, the second day was established only because of doubt, then, once the calendar became fixed, the second day is technically ordinary, even though the custom of observing it remained.
One question arises: If Rav Asi was uncertain, how could he recite a blessing over the separation ceremony? The Ritva offers a novel explanation. He says that Rav Asi did not recite a complete, independent blessing. Rather, during the prayer he inserted a line referring to the separation between the holy and the ordinary. Since it was included within the prayer, it was not a separate blessing recited in a situation of doubt.
Another explanation is that, according to Torah law, the second day is certainly not a festival. Once the calendar had been established, we knew, as we know today, which day was the actual festival and which day was technically ordinary. The second day was nevertheless observed because of the rabbinic institution. Therefore, the blessing recited by Rav Asi was not a blessing in vain on the Torah level.
In any event, the Gemara says that Rav Zeira stated that it makes sense to follow Rav Asi’s ruling that an egg laid on the first day is prohibited on the second day. Today, we know the fixed calendar and know exactly when the new month occurs. Nevertheless, we continue to observe two days in the Diaspora. This suggests that the Sages wanted the second day to remain in force as part of the original institution, rather than merely as a continuing doubt. Since two days are still observed even though we know the dates, it is logical to treat them as one extended sanctity with respect to the egg.
Rav Zeira is not saying that Rav Asi himself was certain about the matter. Rav Asi was uncertain and therefore adopted both stringencies: he prohibited the egg and also made the separation ceremony. Rav Zeira, however, agrees with the practical result that the egg is prohibited. His reasoning is that, since we know the calendar and still observe two days, the Sages must have required the second day to be observed as part of the original institution.
The Gemara then presents an alternative approach. Originally, the people of Eretz Yisrael would announce the new month by lighting torches. When witnesses saw the new moon on the thirtieth night, they would light torches on the mountains, and the signal would pass from mountain to mountain until it reached the people in distant places. Those who saw the torches knew that the following day was the first of the new month.
The Kutim disrupted this system. They would light false torches on the thirtieth night even when the new month had not actually been declared. The people in the Diaspora would see the signals and mistakenly assume that the following day was the first of the month. Because the torches could no longer be trusted, messengers had to be sent instead.
The messengers could not always reach their destinations in time. Consequently, people in distant locations did not know whether the festival began on one day or the next, and they observed two days because of that doubt. If the problem of the false signals had disappeared and the messengers could have reached every location in time, the original practice of observing one day would have been restored. This would suggest that the second day was fundamentally a doubtful day, and that an egg laid on the first day should be permitted on the second.
Rashi explains that, before the Kutim caused this difficulty, there was one festival day everywhere. The people could know the date through the torch signals. Even so, a place that was fifteen days away could not always receive the information in time for the festival. For such a distant place, the people would observe one day in accordance with the known date and another day because they did not know which day was correct. If the messengers reached a location before the festival, that location would observe only one day.
Thus, the original reason for two days in the Diaspora was the inability to communicate the date reliably. Since we now have a fixed calendar and know the dates, the Gemara asks why we continue to observe two days. It answers that a message was sent from Eretz Yisrael instructing the people to preserve the custom of their ancestors and continue observing two days.
The reason was the possibility of persecution and the forgetting of the calendar. The Sages feared that a decree might cause the Torah and the method of establishing the calendar to be forgotten. People might then assume that they still knew how to calculate the calendar and observe only one day, when in fact their calculations would be faulty. They could consequently eat leaven on the final day of Pesach or violate the festival in another way. Therefore, the Sages instructed the people of the Diaspora to continue observing two days regardless.
We can now review the two approaches. According to Rav Asi, there was uncertainty about what the Sages intended when they instituted two days. Perhaps they established two full festival days, in which case the two days constitute one extended sanctity and an egg laid on the first day is prohibited on the second. Alternatively, perhaps they established the second day only because of doubt, in which case the second day is technically ordinary, as demonstrated by Rav Asi’s making the separation ceremony after the first day. Rav Asi followed both possibilities and adopted both stringencies.
According to Rav, an egg laid on the first day is permitted on the second day. His reasoning is that, originally, everyone observed one day, both in Eretz Yisrael and in the Diaspora. The second day was added only because the Kutim disrupted the torch signals and the messengers could not always arrive in time. Since the calendar is now known, the second day should technically be treated as ordinary.
The Gemara challenges this reasoning: If we know the calendar today, why do we observe two days at all? It answers that the custom of the ancestors was preserved as a safeguard against a future time when persecution might cause the method of calculating the calendar to be forgotten. Thus, the two days continue to be observed even though the original uncertainty no longer exists.
The Gemara then turns to another case: the two days of Rosh Hashanah. Rav and Shmuel both state that an egg laid on the first day is prohibited on the second day. The reason is different from the reason for two days in the Diaspora.
Originally, testimony concerning the sighting of the new moon could be accepted throughout the entire day of Rosh Hashanah. Since the witnesses might arrive at any point during the day, the first night was already treated as holy. The people could not begin ordinary work in the morning and then suddenly discover later in the day that the witnesses had arrived and that the day was Rosh Hashanah. Therefore, the entire day was treated as holy from the outset.
There was, however, a problem. The Levites would sing the daily song for the offering brought in the afternoon. If the witnesses had not yet arrived, they might assume that the day was an ordinary weekday and sing the weekday song. If the witnesses then arrived late and testified that they had seen the new moon, it would turn out that the Levites had sung the wrong song for the offering.
This problem did not apply to the morning offering. The Sages instituted that the song for the morning offering would always be the weekday song, because in most years the witnesses would not arrive on the first day. The difficulty arose with the afternoon offering. One year, the witnesses arrived late, after the Levites had already concluded that they would not come. The Levites therefore sang the weekday song, and then the witnesses arrived and established that the day was Rosh Hashanah.
Because of this incident, the Sages instituted that witnesses would be accepted only until the afternoon offering. If they arrived after that time, their testimony would not be accepted until the following day. When witnesses arrived after the cutoff, the first day would nevertheless continue to be treated as holy, even though their testimony had not been accepted for that day, and the following day would certainly be holy because the testimony would be accepted then.
Why did the Sages continue to treat the first day as holy? They were concerned about the following year. If the people were told that the first day was ordinary, they might remember that in the previous year the entire day had been treated as holy and conclude that they could work during the first part of the day. The witnesses might then arrive before the afternoon cutoff, in which case the day would legitimately be Rosh Hashanah and the people would have performed work on the holiday. To prevent that error, the Sages required the first day to be treated as holy even when the witnesses arrived too late to have their testimony accepted for that day.
Thus, even in Eretz Yisrael, where the court knew the facts, it was possible to have two days of Rosh Hashanah as a formal rabbinic institution, not because of uncertainty. When witnesses arrived before the afternoon offering, there was only one day of Rosh Hashanah. But when they arrived after the cutoff, the first day and the second day were both treated as holy by rabbinic decree.
This is why an egg laid on the first day was prohibited on the second. The two days were not merely two possibilities, one of which was ordinary. The Sages treated both days as holy. The result was one extended sanctity, and an egg laid on the first day remained prohibited on the second.
The Gemara brings further details about the institution. Even when witnesses arrived after the afternoon offering and were not accepted until the following day, the first day was not treated carelessly. The counting of the festivals that follow Rosh Hashanah, however, began from the following day. Ten days later would be Yom Kippur, and fifteen days later would be Sukkot. Nevertheless, the thirtieth day of the month was completed with the appropriate degree of holiness, and the people did not treat it as an ordinary weekday.
From this, the Gemara concludes that the original institution of Rosh Hashanah involved two holy days even in the court’s jurisdiction. These were not two days observed because of doubt. The Sages knew the circumstances and nevertheless required both days to be treated as holy. The people living far from Eretz Yisrael did not know whether the witnesses had arrived before or after the cutoff, so they had to observe both days as holy in every case.
The Gemara then cites Rabbah, who says that after the institution of Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, an egg laid on the first day of Rosh Hashanah became permitted on the second day. After the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai instituted that testimony concerning the new moon could be accepted throughout the entire day. Since there was no longer a concern that the Levites would sing the wrong song for the afternoon offering, there was no reason to stop accepting testimony before the afternoon offering.
Accordingly, even if the witnesses arrived late in the day, their testimony would be accepted for that day. In Eretz Yisrael, the first day would be Rosh Hashanah and the second day would be ordinary. The two days were no longer a formal two-day institution. In the Diaspora, however, people would still observe two days because they could not know when the witnesses had arrived. The two days therefore returned to the status of a doubt: perhaps the first day was Rosh Hashanah and the second was ordinary, or perhaps the first was ordinary and the second was Rosh Hashanah. Therefore, an egg laid on the first day should be permitted on the second.
Abaye challenges this conclusion. We have a teaching that both Rav and Shmuel said that an egg laid on the first day of Rosh Hashanah is prohibited on the second. Yet this was after the institution of Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai. How could they maintain that the egg was prohibited if the first day could be holy and the second day ordinary?
The Gemara answers that there is a distinction between Eretz Yisrael and the Diaspora. In Eretz Yisrael, after Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai’s institution, the egg was permitted on the second day because the court could accept the testimony throughout the day and the two-day institution had been removed. In the Diaspora, however, the people continued to observe two days. Since they continued observing two days, the Sages did not change the nature of those two days. The original institution had treated the two days as holy, not as a mere doubt. Therefore, in the Diaspora, the egg remained prohibited on the second day.
Rabbi Yosef offers another position. He says that even after Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai’s institution, the egg remained prohibited. His reasoning is based on the principle that any matter established by a formal quorum of the Sages requires another formal quorum to permit it. The original prohibition of the egg had been established by the Sages as part of the institution of two holy days of Rosh Hashanah. Even if the reason for that institution later disappeared, the prohibition would remain until another quorum explicitly repealed it.
Rabbi Yosef asks how we know this principle. He brings several proofs. The first is the verse in which God tells Moses, “Go tell them: Return to your tents.” Before the giving of the Torah, the people were instructed to separate from their wives for three days. After the giving of the Torah, God explicitly told them to return to their tents.
Rabbi Yosef reasons that the original period of separation might have ended on its own after three days. Nevertheless, an explicit instruction was required to tell the people to return. This suggests that once a restriction has been established, even when its original reason no longer applies, an explicit repeal is necessary. The same principle should apply to a rabbinic institution.
The Gemara questions this proof. Perhaps the instruction to return to their tents was not a repeal of the separation requirement. Perhaps it was a new commandment to resume marital relations. If so, the verse would not prove that a formal repeal is necessary whenever the reason for a law disappears.
The Gemara therefore brings a second proof. Before the giving of the Torah, the people were forbidden to approach the mountain because the Divine Presence was upon it. After the revelation, the shofar was sounded and the people were permitted to approach the mountain. The verse states that when the ram’s horn was sounded, the animals could return to graze near the mountain, but they could not graze there while the Divine Presence remained upon it.
Here too, the original reason for the restriction disappeared when the Divine Presence left the mountain. Nevertheless, an explicit permission was required before the people and animals could return. This again suggests that even when the reason for a restriction no longer applies, the restriction remains until it is explicitly removed.
The Gemara asks whether these two examples prove only that a Torah prohibition requires an explicit repeal. Both the separation from one’s wife and the restriction against approaching the mountain were Torah laws. Perhaps a rabbinic institution, such as the prohibition against eating the egg, would disappear automatically when its reason no longer applied.
The Gemara therefore brings a third proof from the law of fourth-year produce. The fruit of a fourth-year vineyard possesses sanctity and must ordinarily be brought to Jerusalem. If the vineyard was within a one-day journey of Jerusalem, the person could not simply redeem the fruit and bring the money. The Sages required him to bring the fruit itself to Jerusalem so that the marketplaces and streets of Jerusalem would be adorned with fruit.
The Gemara defines the area to which this applied: Eilat was the southern boundary, the city of Acrabim was the northern boundary, Lod was the western boundary, and the Jordan was the eastern boundary. Anyone within that area had to bring the fourth-year fruit itself to Jerusalem.
A teaching relates that Rabbi Eliezer had a vineyard on the eastern side of Lod, in the area of Kefar Tuv. He did not want to transport all of the fruit to Jerusalem, so he sought to declare it ownerless and allow poor people to take it to Jerusalem themselves. Rabbi Eliezer apparently held that the sanctity of Jerusalem continued even after the destruction of the Temple, and therefore that the law of fourth-year produce remained in effect.
At the time of the destruction, however, the reason for the rabbinic requirement no longer applied. The purpose had been to beautify the streets of Jerusalem with fruit. After the destruction, Jerusalem was under foreign rule, and the streets were not being adorned for the Jewish public in the same way. Nevertheless, Rabbi Eliezer was told that the Sages had convened and repealed the requirement. He was permitted to redeem the fruit instead of bringing it to Jerusalem.
The fact that the students went out of their way to tell Rabbi Eliezer that the Sages had repealed the requirement proves that, without such a formal repeal, the law would have remained in force even though its reason no longer applied. This demonstrates that even a rabbinic institution requires a new formal decision to be removed.
Rabbi Yosef therefore argues that the original prohibition of the egg had been established by the Sages as a formal institution. They had ruled that an egg laid on the first day was prohibited on the second because both days of Rosh Hashanah had the status of holiness. When Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai later permitted the court to accept testimony throughout the day, he repealed the institution concerning the acceptance of testimony. He did not explicitly repeal the prohibition of the egg. Therefore, according to Rabbi Yosef, the egg remained prohibited.
Abaye rejects Rabbi Yosef’s premise. He says that the Sages never convened independently to prohibit the egg. The egg’s status was entirely dependent on the status of the testimony concerning the new moon. When the testimony was accepted in a way that made both days holy, the egg was prohibited. When the institution concerning the testimony was changed and the two days no longer had the same status, the prohibition of the egg disappeared automatically.
In Abaye’s formulation, the egg is dependent on the testimony. When the testimony is prohibited or restricted in the relevant way, the egg is prohibited. When the restriction on the testimony is removed, the egg is permitted. The Sages did not need to convene separately to repeal the prohibition of the egg because no independent prohibition had ever been established.
Two other Sages, Rabbi Adda and Rabbi Safra, who came from the place called Keluhit, offer yet another reason that the egg should remain prohibited. They are concerned that the Beit HaMikdash will be rebuilt. When that happens, the original institution will be restored: witnesses will again be accepted only until the afternoon offering, and two days of Rosh Hashanah will again be treated as holy.
If the egg is permitted now, people may remember that an egg laid on the first day of Rosh Hashanah was permitted on the second day the previous year. When the Temple is rebuilt and the original institution is restored, they may continue to eat the egg on the second day, not realizing that the status of the two days has changed. To prevent this future error, the Sages prohibited the egg even during the interim period.
The Gemara challenges this concern. If the Sages were worried about mistakes after the Temple is rebuilt, why did Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai permit the court to accept testimony after the afternoon offering? When the Temple is rebuilt, people may remember that testimony was accepted after the afternoon offering the previous year and incorrectly continue that practice. The same potential confusion should exist regarding the testimony itself.
The Gemara answers that the two cases are not comparable. The court is capable of remembering and distinguishing between the various institutions in force at different times. The court will know that the Temple has been rebuilt and that the earlier practice has returned. The law of the egg, however, applies to every individual Jew. Ordinary people may not remember that the egg was permitted during the period of doubt but will become prohibited once the original two-day institution is restored. Therefore, the Sages were concerned about the egg but not about the court’s acceptance of testimony.
The Gemara then records another opinion that the egg remains prohibited even after Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai. This view explains Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai’s institution differently. He did not necessarily mean that the second day would become ordinary. Rather, he permitted the court to accept the testimony throughout the first day for purposes of calculating the dates of Yom Kippur and Sukkot.
Before Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, if witnesses arrived after the afternoon offering, the calculation of the subsequent holidays began from the second day, even though both days were treated as holy. After his institution, if witnesses arrived late, the calculation began from the first day. Nevertheless, the second day continued to be treated as holy. Thus, both days remained one extended sanctity, and an egg laid on the first day remained prohibited on the second.
According to this interpretation, Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai changed only the date from which the subsequent festivals were calculated. He did not eliminate the two-day observance of Rosh Hashanah. Therefore, the egg remained prohibited.
We consequently find several positions. Rabbah says that the egg remains prohibited because the two days continue to have the status of one extended sanctity. Rabbi Adda and Rabbi Safra also prohibit it because of the concern that the Temple will be rebuilt and the original institution will be restored. On the other hand, Rav and Shmuel distinguish between Eretz Yisrael and the Diaspora: in Eretz Yisrael, after Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, the egg is permitted on the second day, while in the Diaspora it remains prohibited because two days continue to be observed there. Other opinions maintain that the egg remains prohibited everywhere.
The Gemara’s practical conclusion follows Rav in the three related laws, whether Rav’s ruling is lenient or stringent. The first case concerns a Sabbath adjacent to a festival. If an egg is laid on the festival, it is prohibited on the following day when that day is the Sabbath. The reason is that one holy day may not prepare for the next; neither a festival may prepare for the Sabbath nor the Sabbath for the festival.
The second case concerns the two festival days observed in the Diaspora. An egg laid on the first day is permitted on the second because the two days are treated as a doubt: one day is holy and the other is technically ordinary. They are not treated as one continuous sanctity.
The third case concerns the two days of Rosh Hashanah. An egg laid on the first day is prohibited on the second because the two days are treated as one extended sanctity. This is the fundamental principle of the Gemara: in the first case, the egg is prohibited because one holy day cannot prepare for another; in the second, it is permitted because the two days of the Diaspora are treated as a doubt; and in the third, it is prohibited because the two days of Rosh Hashanah are treated as one long day.
May the Torah learning be a source of blessing. Amen.