The Eri B. Sitt Edition, an audio series of the Babylonian Talmud. May the souls of Shemuel, Avraham, Shaul, and their parents find favor in the eyes of people and God, and may the Holy Spirit fill their hearts with goodness for their work. Amen and amen.
Daf 19. We begin today’s daf on 19a, at the beginning of a new chapter. The Mishnah states: If a person says, “I am donating my weight,” he must give his weight according to what he specified. If he says, “I am giving my weight in silver,” he gives his weight in silver. If he says, “I am giving my weight in gold,” he gives his weight in gold.
The Mishnah relates that the mother of Yirm Teyah said, “I want to give my daughter’s weight,” and she came to Jerusalem and gave it in gold. The Gemara will ask: This seems contradictory. We just said that a person must give gold only if he specified gold. Here, however, this woman said only that she wanted to give her daughter’s weight; she did not specify the material, yet she gave gold. We will see how the Gemara resolves this difficulty.
The Mishnah also discusses someone who says, “I want to give the weight of my hand.” How does one measure the weight of a hand? One fills a barrel with water, inserts the hand up to the elbow, and then removes it. The water that was displaced is replaced with flesh, bones, and sinews from a donkey until the water rises to the same level. The flesh of a donkey is considered the most similar to human flesh. Since the arm contains flesh, bones, and sinews, one takes flesh, bones, and sinews from a donkey and places them in the barrel until the water returns to its original level. The amount of donkey material required is then weighed, and that weight is given to the Temple in whatever material the person donated.
As Rashi explains, when the hand is inserted into the water, the displaced volume corresponds to the weight of the human hand. Of course, the bones do not weigh the same as the flesh or the sinews. Each component of the arm is different, which is why one first determines the volume and then weighs the corresponding donkey material.
Rav Yosef raises a good question: How is it possible to measure precisely the amount of donkey bones corresponding to the bones of the hand, the amount of sinews corresponding to the sinews of the hand, and the amount of flesh corresponding to the flesh of the hand? How does one know exactly how much flesh, bones, and sinews to place in the water?
The answer is that one makes an estimate. There is no need to carry out the entire process with absolute precision, because it will not be exact in any event. One estimates how much flesh, bones, and sinews are required. Since the result is necessarily an approximation, one may make the estimate from the outset.
The Gemara returns to the Mishnah’s statement about silver and gold. The Mishnah said that if a person says, “My weight in silver,” he gives silver, and if he says, “My weight in gold,” he gives gold. Rav Yehuda explains that this means that if he specified silver, he gives silver, and if he specified gold, he gives gold.
This seems obvious. The Gemara answers that the Mishnah is teaching the implication of the wording: It is only because he specified silver or gold that he must give that particular material. If he did not specify anything, he may give his weight in any material.
Rav Rechava explains that in a place where tar is weighed, a person who did not specify a material may even give his weight in tar. He did not say, “I want to give my weight in an expensive material”; he merely accepted upon himself to give his weight. Since tar is weighed in that place, it may be used for this purpose.
The Gemara asks why this needs to be stated. If tar is weighed there, and the person did not specify a material, why should he not be able to give tar? The Gemara answers that perhaps the people in that place do not all sell tar by weight. Some sell it by volume rather than weighing it. One might therefore think that tar cannot be considered an item by which a person’s weight may be measured. The Gemara teaches that as long as some people weigh it when they sell it, that is sufficient.
The same applies to onions. In a place where onions are weighed, a person may give his weight in onions. The Gemara asks: When onions are sold, the seller often adds two or three extra onions so that he will not underweigh the customer. Perhaps this means that onions are not really being sold by weight. The Gemara explains that the seller is still selling them by weight. The extra onions are merely added to ensure that he does not make a mistake on the scale; they do not change the basic method of sale.
We now return to the apparent contradiction involving the mother of Yirm Teyah. At the beginning of the Mishnah, we were told that if one specifies silver or gold, one must give that material, whereas if one does not specify, one may give whatever is normally weighed in that location. Why, then, did this woman give gold when she merely said that she wanted to give her daughter’s weight?
The Gemara answers that the Mishnah is missing words. It should be understood as saying that if the person is an important individual, then even if he did not specify the material, he must automatically give gold. The case of the mother of Yirm Teyah is an example of this rule: She was an important woman, and although she did not specify the material, she came to Jerusalem and gave gold.
Rav Yehuda then discusses someone who says, “I want to give my height to the Temple.” As with the previous case, whether he gives gold or silver depends on what he specified. He must give a stick that does not bend and that corresponds to his height. According to one understanding, the stick must also be proportioned according to the structure of his body: not only his height, but also his width or thickness.
If he said, “I am giving my height,” he may give a stick that bends. What is the difference between the two expressions? When a person says, “My height,” he may be referring not only to the length of his body but also to its upright structure. Therefore, he must give a sturdy stick that stands straight and does not bend. But when he says, “The measure of my height,” he is referring only to the measurement of his height, and he may give a stick that is the appropriate length even if it bends.
The Gemara presents a contradiction. One teaching says that regardless of whether a person says, “My height,” or, “The measure of my height,” he must give a stick that does not bend and that corresponds to the upright structure of his body. Another teaching distinguishes between the two expressions, allowing a bendable stick when he says, “The measure of my height.”
The Gemara explains that the ruling attributed to Rabbi Yehuda follows the view of Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva teaches that when a person uses unnecessary words, the additional wording is interpreted to his advantage. This principle is discussed in Bava Batra. For example, if a person sells a house and says, “I am selling you the house,” the pit and the cistern are not included in the sale. Even if he writes that he is selling the house “with all its depth and height,” the pit and cistern remain with the seller.
However, if he sells the house but specifically says, “I am selling you the house except for the pit,” Rabbi Akiva says that he must purchase the path to the pit. He did not need to mention the path, because the pit was not included in the sale in any event. Since he used additional words and specifically excluded the path, those words are interpreted as retaining the path for himself. He must therefore buy back the path in order to reach his pit.
Similarly, if a person wanted to give a straight stick corresponding to his height, he could simply say, “My height.” Why did he add the words, “The measure of my height”? According to Rabbi Akiva, the extra words work to his advantage. They indicate that he is committing himself only to the measurement of his height, and therefore he may give a stick of that length even if it is bendable.
The Gemara asks whether Rabbi Yehuda’s ruling follows Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Yehuda distinguishes between “my height” and “the measure of my height,” whereas another teaching makes no distinction between them. The Gemara explains that Rabbi Yehuda follows Rabbi Akiva: when a person adds words that he did not need to say, those words are interpreted as allowing him to retain something for himself.
The Gemara then raises several questions. What does the expression “my standing” mean? Does it mean his height, requiring him to give a stick as tall as he is when standing? Or is it not a meaningful expression, in which case he has not obligated himself to give anything?
What does it mean when he says, “My width”? Does he have to give a stick whose width corresponds to his own width, or does it mean that he must give a stick whose length corresponds to his width?
What does it mean when he says, “My sitting”? Does this refer to his height when he is sitting, which is shorter than his height when standing? Or does it refer to the amount of space his body occupies widthwise when he is sitting? Perhaps it means the size of the chair or the area in which he is seated.
What does it mean when he says, “My thickness”? Does he have to give a thick stick corresponding to the thickness of his body, or does he have to give a stick whose length corresponds to his thickness? Is the relevant measurement the length of the stick or its width from front to back?
Finally, what does it mean when he says, “My circumference”? Must he give a stick whose length corresponds to the circumference of his body, even if the stick is bendable? Or must he give a thick stick whose thickness corresponds to his circumference? The Gemara leaves all of these questions unresolved with the word teiku; they remain unresolved.
The Mishnah then states: If a person says, “I want to give the weight of my hand,” or, “I want to give the weight of my leg,” he inserts the hand into a barrel of water up to the shoulder and the leg up to the knee. The displaced water is then replaced with donkey flesh, sinews, and bones until the water returns to its original level. That material is weighed, and the corresponding weight is given to the Temple.
What does it mean to insert the hand up to the shoulder? Earlier, the term used was the elbow. Rashi explains that the measurement here extends somewhat higher than the elbow, up to the shoulder blade. For the leg, the measurement extends to the knee.
Again, one uses donkey flesh, sinews, and bones because a verse compares human flesh to the flesh of a donkey. The point is that donkey flesh is considered the closest comparison in consistency or weight to human flesh. Therefore, it is used to estimate the volume of the human limb.
Once again, the Gemara asks how one can know exactly how much donkey flesh, sinews, and bones to use. It is all an estimate. One opinion says that since the result will never be exact, one should simply estimate from the beginning rather than carry out the entire displacement process. The other opinion responds that one should do as much as possible to achieve a more precise measurement. Even if the result will ultimately be an assessment, one should make it as accurate as possible.
The Gemara then discusses the apparent contradiction between this measurement and the measurement required for the washing of the hands and feet in the Temple. For the sanctification of the hands and feet, the hands are washed only up to the wrist. Yet here, when a person donates the weight of his hand, the measurement extends up to the shoulder. If the hand is defined by the Temple service as extending only to the wrist, why does the measurement for a donation extend farther?
The answer is that when the Torah uses the word “hand,” it may refer to the arm up to the shoulder. The expression “hand” in ordinary speech follows the way people speak. When a person says, “My hand,” he generally means the entire arm. For purposes of vows, one follows ordinary speech, and therefore the person must give the weight of the entire arm up to the shoulder.
For the Torah laws concerning the sanctification of the hands and feet, however, the measurement is determined by the received legal tradition, which establishes that the washing extends only to the wrist. The Torah’s use of the word “hand” may extend farther, as in the commandment of phylacteries, but the specific law of sanctifying the hands and feet is limited to the wrist by that tradition.
The Gemara then turns to the leg. If a person says, “I want to give the weight of my leg,” he gives the weight up to the knee. Why is the expression “three legs” used for the three pilgrimage festivals? Chagigah teaches that a person must be able to walk to Jerusalem from a certain point. The word “legs” is therefore understood as referring to the ability to walk.
This excludes someone who is missing a foot and has a wooden replacement in its place. The term “legs” refers to the foot with which a person walks, not merely to the lower portion of the limb. Yet when a person says, “My leg” as part of a vow, ordinary speech is followed, and people generally use that expression to refer to the limb up to the knee.
The Gemara asks whether the Torah’s definition of a leg is limited to the foot. Regarding the rite of release from a levirate marriage, the Torah says that the woman removes the shoe from his foot. The ruling is that even if the shoe extends above the knee, it can still be considered a shoe of the foot. This appears to indicate that the Torah’s definition of the leg extends up to the knee.
The Gemara answers that the relevant point is one joint above the ankle. Moving one joint upward brings one to the knee. Rav Papa concludes that the heel is considered part of the lower limb and is connected with the shin. Even though there are separate bones in the area, they are regarded as one continuous region for this purpose. The heel and the shin are on the same level and are treated as connected rather than as two entirely separate parts.
The Gemara next discusses a different case. Here, the person is not saying, “I want to give the weight of my hand.” Rather, he says, “I want to give the value of my hand.” How is that value calculated? We assess how much the person would be worth if he were sold with his hand and how much he would be worth if he were sold without his hand. The difference between those two values is the amount he must give.
Rashi explains that this applies to the laws of valuations. If a person says, “The value of my hand,” the hand is evaluated by comparing the person’s value with and without it. This is different from a case in which someone injures another person by cutting off his hand.
In the laws of damages, one of the five payments is the payment for the injury itself: injury, pain, loss of work, medical treatment, and humiliation. The injury is evaluated by assessing the victim as a slave in the marketplace. How much was he worth before the injury, and how much is he worth now? The offender pays the difference.
That calculation is different because the injured person’s value has already been reduced. A person who is missing an arm is viewed as blemished and maimed, and the market assesses him at a lower value. Therefore, when evaluating the injury, one first assesses how much a healthy person with two hands would be worth and then how much the same person would be worth without the hand. The difference is the amount of the damage.
In the case of a valuation, however, the person is being assessed as he stands before us. Since he is already missing the hand, the market value of his entire body is lowered. If one evaluates him with and without the hand at that point, the difference will be smaller. For example, a healthy person might be valued at ten thousand, while a person without a hand might be valued at eight thousand, creating a difference of two thousand. But if the person is already being assessed as someone without a hand, his value may be lowered from the outset, and the difference between the two assessments will be much smaller.
The point is that the initial assessment begins at a lower level because the person is already blemished in the eyes of the market. When people see him, they do not perceive the value of a complete person with two hands. That perception affects the assessment. In the case of damages, however, we assess what he would have been worth as a healthy person and compare that with what he is worth after the injury. Since the first assessment is higher, the resulting payment is also greater.
The Gemara then asks: How much would one pay for a slave who can use both hands, and how much would one pay for a slave who can use only one? At first, this sounds like the same calculation described above: how much is the person worth with two hands, and how much is he worth with one?
The Gemara answers that the case is different. The slave has two healthy hands, but one of them is already committed to his first master. He cannot use that hand for the new purchaser because it is already being used by someone else. Nevertheless, the slave himself is a healthy person with two hands. Therefore, he receives a proper, higher assessment. The purchaser is paying for the use of one hand, but he is not buying a person who is physically missing the other hand.
That is the distinction. When a person is missing a hand, his entire assessment begins at a lower level, and the difference between his value with and without the hand is smaller. When he has both hands but one hand is already committed to another master, he is still a healthy person. His initial value is higher, and the purchaser pays the proper value for the use of the one hand available to him.