The Eri B. Sit edition and audio series of the Talmud Bavli discusses a kosher fish that swallowed another fish. If one cuts open the belly and sees a kosher fish inside, the fish may be eaten. Since the swallowed fish is visibly kosher, there is no concern that it has taken on the properties of the fish that swallowed it.
The opposite case is also discussed: a pure fish that swallowed an impure fish. The impure fish does not produce a pure fish from within itself. Since it came from outside, it may be eaten if one knows that it was swallowed. However, this conclusion depends on having actually seen the pure fish enter the impure fish.
If one did not see it enter, perhaps the fish inside was produced by the impure fish itself. It may only resemble a pure fish because its external characteristics look the same. A pure fish lays eggs, which then require another fish to sit on them and warm them until they hatch. An impure fish, however, produces its offspring internally. Therefore, if one did not see the pure fish being swallowed, one must be concerned that the fish found inside was produced by the impure fish and merely resembles a pure fish.
The Gemara then asks: even if one saw the impure fish swallow a pure fish, why assume that the fish now found inside is the same fish? Perhaps the swallowed fish was digested, and the fish found inside is a new fish produced by the impure fish.
Several answers are given. First, the fish was not found in the womb but in the canal through which it was emerging. If it had been produced internally, it would still have been in the other part of the body. Second, it was found in the valve or mouth, the same place through which it had been swallowed. Third, it was found whole and complete. If it had been produced internally, it would not yet have developed fully, because internal development takes time. Since the fish was found complete, it must have come from outside rather than having been produced by the fish itself.
Rav Dagei adds that fish reproduce according to their species. When one sees a pure fish inside an impure fish, even without having seen it swallowed, one may assume that it came from outside, because impure fish do not produce pure fish. The Gemara then cites the teaching that impure fish produce their offspring internally, while pure fish lay eggs.
The Gemara explains that every creature that gives birth to live offspring also nurses its young. Conversely, creatures that hatch from eggs do not nurse them. The mother bird gathers food for its young, but does not nurse them. The bat is an exception: although it lays eggs, it nurses its young.
The Gemara then discusses a creature called the dolphins, which are described as reproducing like human beings. Rav Yehudah identifies them as sea creatures. The Gemara says that if a human being has relations with such a creature, it produces offspring of the same kind. These are the creatures that are described as half human and half fish, what are commonly called mermaids or sirens.
The Gemara presents another rule: when the male reproductive organs are outside the body, the animal gives birth to a live embryo. When they are inside, the animal lays eggs. Shmuel says that the domesticated goose and the wild goose are considered different species and may not be bred together. They differ in the location of the reproductive organs: in one species they are inside, and in the other they are outside. Nevertheless, both species lay eggs.
The Gemara clarifies that the determining factor is not simply the location of the reproductive organs, but the location of the reproductive organ itself. When it is outside, the animal gives birth to a live offspring; when it is inside, the animal lays eggs.
The Gemara also teaches that an animal whose relations occur during the day gives birth during the day, while an animal whose relations occur at night gives birth at night. Chickens lay eggs during the day because they have relations during the day. Bats have relations and give birth at night. Human beings have relations both during the day and at night and may therefore give birth at either time.
The Gemara asks what practical halachic purpose there is in listing all these biological distinctions. Rav Mori, son of Rav Kahana, explains that the information affects the laws of an egg born on a festival. An egg laid on Yom Tov is prohibited because it is considered newly created on the festival.
If a person checked the chicken’s nest on the eve of Yom Tov and found no egg, then checked before daylight on Yom Tov and found one, the egg would ordinarily be assumed to have been laid on the eve of Yom Tov. Since chickens lay eggs during the day, it could not have been laid during the night.
But what if the person had checked the nest carefully and still found no egg? In that case, perhaps the egg had partially emerged and then returned inside. When the person checked, nothing was visible, and the remainder emerged only later. Since the egg did not emerge during the night, and chickens do not lay eggs at night, it must have emerged during the day. The practical result is that the egg is permitted.
The Gemara then teaches that animals whose manner of relations and gestation period are the same give birth at the same time. Most animals have relations from behind, but three species have relations face to face: fish, human beings, and snakes.
The reason given is that the Divine Presence spoke with all three. God spoke with human beings, spoke with the snake in the time of Adam, and spoke with the fish when He commanded it to swallow and then release Jonah. Since these species had the distinction of speaking with the Divine Presence face to face, their relations are described as face to face. This is presented as an indication of their elevated status.
The camel is described as having relations from behind. The Ben Ish Chai says that he asked Arabs about this, and they told him that camels do not in fact have relations in that manner. He therefore says that nature may have changed over time. He brings other examples in which the natural behavior described in the Talmud may have changed at a later period.
The Gemara then discusses the amount of time required for different creatures and plants to develop. A chicken’s egg takes twenty-one days to hatch, as does the fruit of the luz tree to emerge. A dog takes fifty days to be born, corresponding to the fig tree. A cat takes fifty-two days, corresponding to the mulberry. A pig takes sixty days, corresponding to the apple tree. Reptiles take six months, corresponding to wheat.
A pure animal takes five months to give birth, corresponding to the grapevine. A large impure animal, such as a donkey, takes twelve months, corresponding to the date palm. A pure large animal, such as a cow, takes nine months, corresponding to the olive tree.
The lion, bear, leopard, cheetah, bobcat, elephant, monkey, and ape take three years to develop. The white fig and a certain type of snake take seventy years. In the case of the tree, this means that from the time it is planted until its fruit first appears takes seventy years. Once the fruit begins to bud, however, it takes only three years to reach completion.
A snake takes seven years to be born. The snake has no corresponding partner whose development also takes seven years. Some say that it does have a partner, a certain type of white fig, although not precisely the same as the other white fig mentioned earlier.
How do we know that a snake takes seven years? The verse says that the snake is cursed more than all the animals and beasts of the field. A domesticated animal generally takes longer to develop than a wild animal. The donkey takes one year, while the cat takes fifty-two days. Fifty-two times seven is approximately one year. Thus, the gestation period of the domesticated animal is seven times that of the wild animal.
Accordingly, just as the donkey takes seven times as long as the cat, the snake takes seven times as long as the domesticated animal. Since the donkey takes one year, the snake takes seven years.
The Gemara challenges this reasoning. Perhaps the relationship is reversed: perhaps the wild animal takes only one-third as long as the domesticated animal. The lion takes three years, while the donkey takes one year. If the ratio between a wild animal and a domesticated animal is one to three, then the snake should take nine years rather than seven.
The Gemara answers that the verse places the domesticated animal before the wild animal: the snake is cursed more than the domesticated animal and more than the wild animal. The verse therefore teaches that the comparison is between the domesticated animal and the wild animal, rather than the reverse. The snake is placed next to the domesticated animal to teach that the ratio is seven to one.
The Gemara again challenges the conclusion. Perhaps the comparison should be made between the goat, which takes five months, and the wild animal, which takes fifty-two days. That ratio is approximately three to one, which would mean that the snake takes fifteen months rather than seven years.
The answer is that the Torah follows the larger ratio rather than the smaller one. Since the snake’s curse is being described, we use the greatest applicable ratio. There is no reason to minimize the punishment and assign the snake a fifteen-month gestation period when the stronger ratio yields seven years.
The Gemara then records a conversation between Caesar and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hananiah. Caesar asked how long it takes a snake to become pregnant and give birth. Rabbi Yehoshua answered that it takes seven years.
Caesar replied that the wise men of Athens had mated two snakes, and they gave birth after three years. Rabbi Yehoshua answered that the snakes had already been pregnant for four years before they were mated, which explained why they gave birth three years later.
The Gemara objects that tradition teaches that a pregnant animal does not mate. If the snakes were able to mate, they must not have been pregnant. The answer is that snakes, like human beings, do mate while pregnant. Therefore, the experiment does not disprove the seven-year period.
Caesar then objected that the wise men of Athens were intelligent. When they conducted the experiment, they must have accounted for all the variables. Caesar challenged Rabbi Yehoshua to defeat them in an argument. If he succeeded, he would bring them before Caesar and would be granted one request.
Rabbi Yehoshua asked how many wise men there were. He was told that there were sixty. He asked that a boat be built with sixty rooms, and that each room contain sixty chairs.
When Rabbi Yehoshua arrived in Athens, he first approached a butcher who was skinning an animal. He asked the butcher, “Are you selling your head?” Rabbi Yehoshua meant the butcher’s own head, but the butcher understood him to be asking about the head of the animal. He answered that he was selling it.
Rabbi Yehoshua asked how much it cost, and the butcher replied, “Half a zuz.” Rabbi Yehoshua paid him. The butcher then realized that Rabbi Yehoshua had been referring to his own head. Rabbi Yehoshua told him that he had asked for the butcher’s head, not the animal’s head. The butcher was trapped, because the people of Athens kept their word, and he therefore had to show Rabbi Yehoshua where the wise men were located.
The wise men of Athens were in a secret place. The butcher warned Rabbi Yehoshua that anyone who revealed their location would be killed. He told Rabbi Yehoshua to carry a bundle of reeds on his shoulder and, when he reached the place, to put them down as though he were resting. The butcher would understand that this was the sign indicating the location.
Guards stood both inside and outside the entrance. The wise men had spread dirt on the ground so that they could see footprints. If footprints showed someone entering, they would kill the guards outside for failing to prevent the entry. If footprints showed someone leaving, they would kill the guards inside for failing to stop the person from leaving.
Rabbi Yehoshua put his shoes on backward and walked forward. The footprints appeared to be leading out, so the guards inside were killed. He then turned the shoes around and walked backward, causing the footprints to appear to be leading inside. The guards outside were then killed. The point was to create footprints in both directions and cause both sets of guards to be blamed.
When Rabbi Yehoshua entered, he saw that the younger men were seated on the upper floor and the elders on the lower floor. He was concerned that whichever group he greeted first would become offended. The elders could say that their age entitled them to the honor, while the younger men could say that their higher position showed that they were more important.
Rabbi Yehoshua therefore said, “Peace be upon all of you,” without addressing either group separately. They asked what he was doing there, and he answered that he had come to learn from them. They replied that if he was truly wise, they would ask him questions.
Rabbi Yehoshua agreed. If they defeated him, they could do whatever they wished with him. If he defeated them, they would have to join him for a meal on his boat and then come with him to Caesar.
The Gemara records twelve questions that the wise men of Athens asked Rabbi Yehoshua. These were not ordinary questions. Each question contained a deeper idea, and Rabbi Yehoshua’s answers also contained a deeper meaning. Many of the explanations are based on the Maharal of Prague, the Maharsha, and the Vilna Gaon.
The first question was this: if a man is seeking a wife and approaches an important family, but they reject him, will he now approach an even more important family? Rabbi Yehoshua took a stick and tried to place it in the ground, but it would not enter because there was no opening. He then placed it in a hole in the wall, where it fit.
He was showing that sometimes a person does not succeed in one place but does succeed in another. The Maharsha explains that the first wife of humanity represents the nations of the world, while the second wife represents the Jewish people. The nations argue that God must have approached them first because they were more important. If they rejected the Torah, He then approached Israel, which accepted it.
Their claim was that Israel was not chosen because of any special status. The nations of the world had been approached first, and only after they rejected the Torah did God approach Israel. If Israel had truly been the most important nation, they argued, God would have approached Israel first.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered that this is not how the matter should be understood. Sometimes the stick does not fit into the lower opening but fits into the higher one. Israel’s being approached last does not show that Israel was inferior. Rather, the Torah is so elevated that it could not fit into the earlier nations, and it fit only with Israel.
The second question was: if a person lends money and gets burned because he is not repaid, will he lend money again? Rabbi Yehoshua answered with an example. A man goes to a swamp and cuts a large quantity of reeds, but the load is too heavy for him to lift. Instead of removing some of the reeds, he cuts even more, making the pile twice as heavy, until someone else comes to help him carry it.
The Vilna Gaon explains that the Torah is like a loan. When God gave the Torah, Israel accepted the obligation to repay it by fulfilling the commandments. After the destruction of the First Temple, the Sages instituted additional decrees and safeguards to prevent people from violating Torah prohibitions. For example, they prohibited certain activities involving chicken even though the Torah prohibition applies to a kid with meat.
The Jewish people had not fulfilled the Torah as they should have and had therefore defaulted on the loan. They wished to repay it by accepting additional safeguards. They would no longer sin, and they would create fences around the Torah to ensure that they did not violate its laws.
The elders of Athens asked: once the Jewish people had already failed to keep the original agreement, why should God accept new terms and lend to them again? Why should additional safeguards make any difference after the first loan had already been lost?
The answer is that a person may be more likely to commit an unintentional transgression than a deliberate one. A deliberate transgression can be avoided by thinking about the act, but an unintentional act occurs without awareness. The Sages therefore created safeguards to prevent unintentional violations. The laws of objects that may not be moved on Shabbat are an example: the Sages were concerned that if people moved certain objects, they might eventually come to write on Shabbat.
Rabbi Yehoshua’s parable explains that no one will help a person carry a load that seems manageable. But when the load is visibly too large for one person, others will come to help. Similarly, when God saw that Israel had accepted many safeguards and stringencies, He recognized that Israel was now more prepared to fulfill the Torah. The additional safeguards made it more likely that the people would repay not only the new obligation but also the old one.
The third question was: “Tell us something nonsensical.” Rabbi Yehoshua answered that there was once a mule that gave birth, and a document was placed around its neck stating that it owed its grandfather one hundred thousand zuz.
The wise men of Athens responded that a mule does not give birth. Rabbi Yehoshua said that this was precisely the nonsense they had requested.
The Vilna Gaon explains that the Jewish people have always believed that they will remain God’s nation and that their status as the chosen nation is unconditional. The Romans viewed this belief as stubbornness, as though the Jewish people refused to recognize that God had abandoned them.
The Gemara in Avodah Zarah describes how, every seventy years, the Romans would hold a parade to demonstrate that Israel had been abandoned and that Rome had become the chosen nation. They would place a healthy, powerful man representing Esau on the shoulders of a lame man representing Jacob, who had been injured by the angel of Esau. They would say that Jacob was the crooked one who had stolen the blessings, yet had received no prosperity from them. Rome, they claimed, was the nation that possessed the blessings.
The elders of Athens were expressing the same argument. They asked Rabbi Yehoshua to tell them something untrue because, in their view, the blessings of Isaac had not come true. Jacob was supposed to become the leader, with Esau serving him, but in their eyes Rome was prosperous and Israel was in exile.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered with the mule that gave birth. He was teaching that the Jewish exile is temporary. The sages of Athens were claiming that Israel was like a mule, unable to produce offspring and unable to return. Rabbi Yehoshua answered that the Jewish people would ultimately produce again and return.
The Maharal explains that God told Abraham that his descendants would sin and would have to endure either Gehinnom or exile among the nations. Abraham chose exile because it was preferable to a punishment in which the Jewish people might be completely destroyed. Exile is therefore not evidence that Israel has been abandoned; it was the path chosen for Israel’s benefit.
Since Abraham chose exile, the Jewish people are like a child holding a document against his grandfather: “You owe me one hundred thousand.” Abraham is obligated to pray for the redemption because he was the one who chose exile for his descendants. The mule’s inability to give birth represents the claim that Israel will never return, while Rabbi Yehoshua’s answer declares that Israel will ultimately return and that the document remains in its possession.
The fourth question was: when salt spoils, how can it be preserved? Rabbi Yehoshua answered, “With the embryo of a mule.” The wise men responded that a mule has no embryo. He answered, “Does salt spoil?”
The Maharsha explains that the covenant of salt symbolizes an eternal covenant, because salt does not decay. The covenant God made with Israel at Sinai was likewise intended to endure forever. God promised the land and the Divine Presence to Israel, yet Israel was later exiled and the Temple was destroyed.
The elders of Athens claimed that the covenant had spoiled and that there was no way to repair it. Rabbi Yehoshua answered that Israel’s covenant remained intact. The Jewish people are distinguished by their connection to their ancestors—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Other nations are like mules in the sense that they do not trace their identity through an enduring ancestral tradition in the same manner.
Rabbi Yehoshua’s answer was that a mule’s embryo represents a contradiction, just as the claim that the Jewish covenant had spoiled was a contradiction. The Jewish people are not like a mule. Their connection to their ancestors creates an obligation to preserve the tradition, and that enduring connection is what allows the covenant to remain unconditional.
The fifth question was: “Build us a house suspended in the air.” Rabbi Yehoshua pronounced a sacred Divine name, and he was suspended between heaven and earth. He then asked them to provide the bricks and mortar with which he could build the house.
The Maharsha explains that the elders of Athens were mocking the Jewish people’s situation in exile. In the past, Israel lived in its land, the Temple stood in Jerusalem, and the Divine Presence rested among the people. After the land was lost and the Temple was destroyed, they argued, it was impossible for the Divine Presence to remain with Israel. Building a Temple in the air was impossible.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered that the Divine Presence rests with the righteous wherever they are, even when the Temple is absent. The Divine Presence is associated with the term “Place” because wherever the righteous are, God is present. The elders of Athens understood only physicality. They could provide bricks and mortar, but they could not provide spirituality.
Rabbi Yehoshua suspended himself in the air to demonstrate that the Divine Presence remains with the righteous even without the Temple. If the elders insisted that a physical Temple was necessary, he asked them to provide the physical materials. Their inability to provide spirituality exposed the limitation of their argument.
The sixth question was: “Where is the center of the world?” Rabbi Yehoshua raised his finger and answered, “Here.” They asked who said so. He replied, “Bring ropes and measure it.”
The Sages teach that the Land of Israel is at the center of the world and that Jerusalem is at the center of the Land of Israel. The elders of Athens were asking where the Jerusalem of that time was. They argued that the Jewish people were scattered in exile and could not experience the Divine Presence as they had in the Temple.
Rabbi Yehoshua raised his finger to show that wherever a Jew is, that place becomes the center of the world. Wherever Jews are found, the Divine Presence can rest with them. When the elders asked who had established that principle, he told them to measure it, because they understood only physical measurement and not spiritual reality.
The seventh question was: “We have a well in the field. Bring the well from the field into the city.” Rabbi Yehoshua answered, “Make ropes from bran, and I will pull the well into the city.”
The well represents the Divine Presence. When the Temple stood in Jerusalem, the Jewish people drew holiness and blessing from it. The elders of Athens claimed that after the Temple was destroyed, the well had left the city and the Divine Presence had returned to heaven. They claimed that their own wellspring remained productive while Israel’s had dried up.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered that Israel possessed strong ropes with which to draw the well back. These ropes represent the seven righteous figures: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Levi, Kehat, Amram, and Moses. Through the merit of these righteous people, the Divine Presence could be drawn back into the world, just as the Divine Presence descended upon Mount Sinai through the merit of Moses, the seventh righteous figure.
The ropes of the nations, by contrast, were made of bran, an inferior material. Although Israel was in exile, the merit of its righteous people provided strong ropes. The nations did not possess comparable ropes and therefore could not draw the Divine Presence into the world during exile.
The eighth question was: “We have a millstone that grinds wheat, but it is broken. Can you sew it together?” Rabbi Yehoshua answered, “Bring me threads from the millstone, and I will sew it.”
The Maharsha explains that when the Temple stood, the Jewish people brought offerings and were regarded as children of the King, eating from God’s table. One of the seven heavens is called Shechakim, the place where spiritual food is ground and prepared. The elders of Athens claimed that Israel’s millstone was broken, meaning that the channel through which blessing once descended into the world had been destroyed.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered that Israel could repair the millstone through the merit of the righteous of every generation. The righteous are compared to stone. In the time of Moses, there were three righteous figures—Moses, Aaron, and Miriam—and in their merit Israel received three blessings: manna in the merit of Moses, the clouds of glory in the merit of Aaron, and water in the merit of Miriam.
These three righteous people formed a threefold cord, which is not easily broken. The righteous are the threads with which Israel can repair the millstone and restore the flow of blessing. The nations, lacking these threads, cannot restore their own millstone when their blessing is interrupted.
The ninth question was: “Suppose there is a field in which a row of knives is growing. How can the row of knives be cut?” Rabbi Yehoshua answered, “With the horn of a donkey.” They asked, “Does a donkey have a horn?” He replied, “Does a field grow knives?”
The Maharal explains that the elders of Athens were asking why the world produces so many negative events—death, illness, suffering, and other troubles. They compared the world to a field full of knives, suggesting that events occur randomly and that the world has no order or Divine supervision.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered with the horn of a donkey. The donkey represents physicality. Sometimes something that appears entirely material contains a higher spiritual value. The elders responded that a donkey does not have a horn, meaning that they could not understand how physicality could contain spirituality.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered that just as there is no field that grows knives, the world does not produce events arbitrarily. God created the world so that it would ultimately produce goodness. The destructive events that occur are the result of human sin. If the Jewish people had acted properly, the world would have produced blessing for them. Their spiritual corruption caused the natural world to turn against them.
A human being consists of both physicality and spirituality. The physical aspect brings a person downward, but the spiritual aspect allows a person to elevate himself. The elders of Athens could not understand that physical events could be connected to spiritual causes. They viewed suffering as arbitrary, while Rabbi Yehoshua explained that the physical world reflects the spiritual conduct of humanity.
The tenth question involved two white eggs. The elders asked Rabbi Yehoshua to identify which egg had come from a white chicken and which had come from a black chicken. Alternatively, according to another version, they asked which egg contained a black chick and which contained a white chick.
Rabbi Yehoshua brought them two white pieces of cheese and asked them to identify which had come from a black goat and which had come from a white goat. On the surface, this appeared to be a response in kind: they had asked about eggs, and he asked about cheese.
The deeper question, as explained by the Maharsha, concerned whether children are necessarily like their parents. The elders of Athens were saying that even though Israel descended from the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—this did not necessarily make Israel superior. One cannot judge a person solely by ancestry.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered that their analogy was defective. An egg is not the offspring of the chicken in the same way that a child is the offspring of a parent. The egg is waste, just as milk is waste produced by an animal; it is not the animal itself and does not reveal everything about the offspring.
One must look inside the egg to see what it contains. Likewise, one should not judge Israel merely by external appearance. The inner reality shows the distinction, and Israel descends from righteous ancestors. Therefore, the Jewish people are indeed different, and their connection to the patriarchs remains significant.
The eleventh question was: if a chick is sealed inside an egg, how does it die? There are no openings through which air can enter or leave. Rabbi Yehoshua answered that the place through which the air entered is the place through which it leaves.
The Maharsha explains that the question concerned the souls of children who die young. The Jewish belief is that even a child who has not yet performed commandments goes directly to the World to Come. The elders of Athens challenged this, arguing that a child is entirely physical and has not yet demonstrated spiritual accomplishment.
They argued that the soul of a child is so attached to the body that, when the child dies, there is no opening through which the soul can separate. The child is like a chick sealed within an egg, with no place for the air to escape.
Rabbi Yehoshua answered that the place from which the air originally came is the place to which it returns. The source of the soul is pure, and that purity guarantees that the soul returns to its source. Even a child who has not yet shown spiritual accomplishment possesses a spiritual element that returns to its origin.
The twelfth and final question was: “Show us a vessel whose value is less than the damage caused by bringing it inside.” The elders brought a reed mat. It was too large to fit through the doorway, so they asked Rabbi Yehoshua to bring a hammer and break down the door in order to bring the mat inside.
Rabbi Yehoshua asked what the point was. The elders answered that the mat was not worth the damage caused by breaking the door. Rabbi Yehoshua replied that this was precisely the answer: the mat was not worth the damage that would be caused to bring it inside.
The Maharsha explains that the elders of Athens were speaking about the end of time. They believed that the nations would endure while the Jewish people would be destroyed. They viewed Israel as a broken vessel that God had abandoned. Why, they argued, would God destroy the entire world for the sake of preserving a broken vessel?
Rabbi Yehoshua reversed the analogy. The house represents the world, and the reed mat represents Israel. For the nations, it would not be worthwhile to destroy the house for the sake of a worthless mat. But Israel is not worthless. God desires and cherishes Israel, and it is therefore worthwhile to destroy the house in order to preserve the Jewish people.
Rabbi Yehoshua had now answered all twelve questions. The agreement was that if he succeeded, the sixty elders of Athens would join him for a meal on his boat. The boat had been deliberately constructed with sixty rooms, each containing sixty chairs, because there were sixty elders.
Rabbi Yehoshua placed each elder in a separate room. Each elder saw fifty-nine additional chairs and assumed that the others would soon enter his room. Everyone waited calmly, thinking that the other fifty-nine men were still on their way. Rabbi Yehoshua then told the captain to untie the boat and begin sailing.
As the elders boarded the boat, Rabbi Yehoshua took earth from Greece with him. He also drew water from a place in the sea where the water descended to a great depth and then rose again. The boat eventually arrived at Caesar’s residence, and Rabbi Yehoshua brought the sixty elders before him.
They appeared weak and exhausted, unlike the powerful wise men Caesar had expected to see. Rabbi Yehoshua placed the earth from Greece before them. When they smelled the earth of their homeland, they were revived and were able to stand before Caesar. Their exile from their own country had weakened them, while the scent of their native soil restored their strength.
When Caesar saw that these were indeed the elders of Athens, he told Rabbi Yehoshua that he had won and could do whatever he wished with them. Rabbi Yehoshua took the water he had drawn from the deep place in the sea and placed it in a large vessel. He told the elders that they would be free to go if they could fill a pitcher with the water.
They began filling the pitchers, but the water was continually swallowed at the bottom. They poured in more water, but it continued disappearing. They kept trying until their shoulders became exhausted and they could no longer continue.
The Sages learn from this episode that a person is affected by the earth of his homeland. A similar idea appears in the story of Elisha. Elisha came to a town whose waters were bitter and sweetened them. Forty-two men who had been selling fresh water became angry because his miracle put them out of business. They insulted him, and bears came out and killed them.
The Gemara calls this a miracle within a miracle: there was no forest and there were no bears. Elisha first created the forest and then created the bears. The commentators ask why both miracles were necessary. Why could he not simply have caused bears to emerge from the city?
The answer is that a bear feels powerful in its natural environment. If the bears had appeared in the city, they would not have possessed the same courage to attack. Elisha therefore created a forest so that they would feel at home. Once they were in their natural habitat, they were empowered to attack.
The same principle explains why the elders of Athens were revived when they smelled the earth of Greece. It also explains the plague of wild animals in Egypt. Every animal came from its own environment, but an animal is more powerful when it feels at home. Each animal therefore brought its own earth with it, so that the lion felt it was in its jungle, the bear felt it was in its forest, and each creature felt that it was in its natural habitat.
The miracle in Egypt thus involved two elements: every species of animal arrived, and each animal arrived together with the earth of its natural environment. The earth gave each creature the strength and confidence to attack.
The water that Rabbi Yehoshua brought before the elders represented the endless pursuit of physical desire. The water was continually swallowed, and the elders could never fill the pitchers. A person who pursues physicality is never satisfied. One who has one hundred wants two hundred, and no amount is enough.
The rabbis say that one who has one hundred desires two hundred. The word for money is often explained as reflecting this idea: however much a person has, he experiences it as only half of what he wants. The elders were being shown that physical desire is never satiated.
The spiritual person, by contrast, can experience satisfaction. Spirituality provides contentment, while the pursuit of physicality continually creates new desire. The elders of Athens represented those who pursue only the physical, and the endless water demonstrated that such a pursuit can never be completed.
The Maharal maintains that these accounts are allegorical and that the boat with sixty rooms and the other details did not necessarily occur literally. In his view, the Gemara presents the ideas in the form of a story. Regardless of this difference of interpretation, the message remains that Rabbi Yehoshua defeated the wise men of Athens, answered all their questions, and demonstrated the distinction between physicality and spirituality.