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

Daf Yomi

Ketuvot 67A - 67B (12th Cycle Daf Yomi Shiur)

Lectured by Rabbi Eli Mansour

Published
April 25, 2006
Duration
58:19

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

We begin by revisiting yesterday's discussion about Nakdimon ben Gorion, one of Jerusalem's wealthy individuals. We learned that his daughter eventually fell into poverty because he failed to fulfill his obligations regarding charity. The Gemara questions this, asking: "Did Nakdimon ben Gorion not perform charity?"

We have a teaching that when he would leave his house to go to the study hall, expensive wool garments were placed under his feet so he wouldn't have to walk directly on the street. These garments were then left there for the poor to take. He was so rich and generous that he wouldn't even collect them. This demonstrates his immense charity, even just for his walk from his home to the study hall.

The Baraita offers two answers. First, the Gemara explains that while he did give charity, his intention was for honor. Even though we learned elsewhere that giving charity with ulterior motives is still considered charity, here we see a crucial distinction. If a person is destined to lose their money (a divine decree), the intention behind their charity can avert this decree. However, if the charity was given with the wrong intention, such as for honor, it will not be effective in breaking such a decree. Therefore, when the wheel of fortune turned against Nakdimon ben Gorion, his charity, given for honor and glory, did not protect him from his downfall.

The Kabbalah offers a second answer: He gave charity, but not in proportion to what he was obligated to give. One might give thousands or millions, but this does not necessarily fulfill their obligation, which is relative to their wealth. To a poor person, it might seem like a vast sum, but relative to the donor's assets, it may not be considered a full fulfillment of their duty. The Gemara provides a proverb for this: "According to the strength of the camel, so is its load." A strong camel must carry more, and similarly, a wealthy person must give more charity.

The phrase "I should not see the consolation of Jerusalem," which we see throughout the Talmud, is a euphemism. The Rabbis used it to emphasize the truth of their statements. They meant, "If what I am saying is not true, may I not see the consolation of Jerusalem," but they avoided saying it explicitly. This was a form of oath. What was he swearing about? "I saw the daughter of Nakdimon ben Gorion collecting barley under the hooves of horses in Akko." He made this oath because it was so unbelievable that the daughter of such a wealthy man would be reduced to such a state.

When he saw her, he recited a verse from the Song of Songs: "If you do not know, O fairest among women, go forth in the footsteps of the flock, and feed your kids beside the shepherds' tents." This verse, in its simple meaning, implies that if the Jewish people do not recognize God and fulfill the commandments, they will have to go out and graze their sheep. However, the Yom Kippur interpretation states: "Do not read 'your kids' (G'diyotayich), but 'your bodies' (Giv'yotayich)." This means they will have to sustain their bodies from under the animals' feet. The Rabbis tell us that there are different styles of letter interchange, such as Atbah, where Dalet is exchanged for Vav. Thus, G'diyotayich becomes Giv'yotayich, implying that one would have to sustain their bodies from meager sources, exactly as happened to Nakdimon ben Gorion's daughter.

We now turn to a new section of the Gemara, focusing on a statement by Rabbi Hanan. He states that when a woman brings gold into a marriage, it is evaluated at its market price, without adding a 30% increase. Gold, unlike other items, does not receive an exaggerated valuation in the ketubah. This means if it's worth a thousand, a thousand is written.

The explanation is as follows: We learned on the previous page that when other assets or vessels are brought into a marriage, their value is increased for two reasons. First, these items were often evaluated higher than their true price. However, with gold, everyone knew its price, so there was no exaggerated valuation. Second, other items might devalue over time, so a discount of 20% might be applied. But gold, it seems, was able to hold its price. For these reasons, the Gemara states that when gold is brought in, its value is recorded as is.

The Gemara challenges Rabbi Hanan from a Baraita, which states: "Gold, one does not add 30% to its value, nor does one subtract 20% from it." This means gold is recorded at its fair market value. The Baraita then states: "Vessels are like money." This is where the challenge arises. We learned yesterday that for vessels, you must subtract 20% (meaning a vessel worth a thousand is recorded as 800 in the ketubah). So, if the Baraita says "vessels are like money," and money usually entails adding 30%, how can it also say that vessels are like money, which implies a higher valuation, while simultaneously stating that gold is not subject to a 30% increase or a 20% decrease?

The Gemara clarifies that the Baraita's statement "vessels are like money" refers to silver vessels, which devalue. Therefore, a 20% reduction is applied. But this still contradicts Rabbi Hanan's ruling that gold retains its value. The Gemara then suggests that the Baraita's statement "gold is like vessels" refers to broken pieces of gold, which would indeed devalue. However, the Gemara questions why the Baraita would not specify "broken gold" if that were the case.

The Gemara poses another question: The Baraita should have said "gold is like its own vessels" (i.e., gold vessels), implying it retains its value, rather than "gold is like vessels" generally, which could refer to other types of vessels that devalue. This question remains for now.

We then encounter another Baraita: "Gold is like vessels." This is the first part, the Resha. "Gold coins are like money." This is the second part, the Sefa. For gold coins, which are money, we would assume a 30% increase applies. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel states: "In a place where they do not trade in this currency, you evaluate them at their actual value." We need to determine if Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel is disagreeing with the Resha or the Sefa.

If he is arguing on the Sefa, then the Tana Kama would say that even if gold coins are not traded, a 30% increase is applied, which seems illogical as they are not usable for investment. Therefore, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel must be arguing on the Resha. The Resha stated: "Gold is like vessels." The Tana Kama interprets this to mean gold is like silver vessels, which devalue by 20%. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, however, says: "Gold is like gold coins in a place where they are not traded," meaning it retains its value without addition or subtraction. This creates a dispute between the Tana Kama and Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel regarding the valuation of gold bullion.

The Gemara then offers a different interpretation: Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel is indeed arguing on the Sefa. The Tana Kama holds that even if gold coins are not easily traded, they can still be invested, so a 30% increase applies. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel argues that if they are not traded, no increase is added. However, regarding the Resha (gold bullion), everyone agrees that "gold is like vessels" refers to gold vessels, which retain their value. Thus, there is no disagreement in the Baraita concerning gold bullion, aligning with Rabbi Hanan's statement.

The Gemara provides yet another way to read the Baraita, where the entire Baraita is attributed to Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel. It states: "Gold is like vessels. Gold coins are like money, and a 30% increase applies, but only if they are tradable. If they are not tradable, they are evaluated at their actual value." This interpretation also avoids any opinion that gold bullion devalues.

However, the initial question remains: Why did the Baraita say "gold is like vessels" instead of "gold is like its own vessels" (i.e., gold vessels)? The Gemara admits this is a difficulty. It then offers a resolution by distinguishing between different types of gold. Rabbi Hanan was referring to large pieces of gold, which retain their value. The Baraita, when it said "gold is like vessels" (implying devaluation), was referring to small gold chips or gold dust, which do lose value through use. Thus, there is no contradiction between Rabbi Hanan and the Baraita.

The Gemara then discusses other items that function as currency. Rabbi Ami states that "spices of Antioch" were used as currency in Antioch. If a woman brings these spices into her marriage, her husband must add 30% to their value, just like money. Similarly, camels in Arabia were a tradable commodity, so if a woman brings camels, a 30% increase applies. The same applies to "sacks of Dorya" and "ropes of Mehonya," which were also commodities traded as currency in their respective places, entitling the woman to a 30% increase.

We now move to a new topic: the collection of a ketubah from orphans. The general rule is that a woman can only collect her ketubah from land (karka), not from movable property (metaltalim). This is because land is stable, and a woman relies on its permanence. Movable items, by their nature, move and are not considered a reliable lien. However, the Gemara initially thought that in places like Mehozah, where people always kept large amounts of cash for business, these "wallets filled with money" might be considered like land, because they were consistently available. This would mean a woman could collect her ketubah from them.

However, the Gemara rejects this idea. It observes that when women received such money, they immediately used it to buy real estate. This demonstrates that they themselves did not trust the money's stability and sought to convert it into something more permanent. Therefore, the lien of the ketubah does not apply to movable cash, as it is seen merely as a means to acquire land.

The Mishnah then discusses a father marrying off his daughter. It is customary for a father to provide a dowry (nidunya) for his daughter, as this makes her more desirable for marriage. The Mishnah sets a minimum dowry of 50 zuz. If the father does not provide clothes for his daughter, the husband cannot delay providing clothes until after the marriage. He must begin providing them immediately. This is a rabbinic enactment (takana) to ensure the woman's needs are met.

Similarly, if the rabbinical court (beit din) marries off an orphan girl (yetoma), they must provide at least 50 zuz from the charity fund (kupat tzedakah) for her dowry. If there is more money available, they should give more, according to her honor. The Gemara clarifies that these 50 zuz are the cheaper, regular zuz, not the more valuable zuz of Tsuri (which was eight times more valuable). We deduce this from the Mishnah's phrasing, which states that if there is more money, they should give more. If it were 50 zuz of Tsuri (equivalent to 400 regular zuz), that would already be a substantial sum, making the instruction to give "more" less impactful.

If both an orphan boy (yatom) and an orphan girl (yetoma) come to the beit din for sustenance, and there is only enough money for one, the girl is given priority. This is because it is customary for a man to go door-to-door to collect money, but it is not modest or appropriate for a girl to do so. Therefore, the yetoma receives support first.

If both a yatom and a yetoma come to the beit din to be married, and there is only enough money to marry one, the girl is married first. The shame (boshet) of an unmarried girl is greater than that of an unmarried boy, so she is prioritized to spare her this embarrassment.

When an orphan boy comes to be married, the community is obligated to provide for his needs: rent him a house, furnish it with a bed, and provide household items. We learn this from the verse regarding charity: "You shall surely give him what he lacks" (Deuteronomy 15:8). The double language ("what he lacks, that which he is missing") implies that "what he lacks" refers to a house, and "that which he is missing" refers to a bed and other household necessities. The verse also states: "I will make him a helper corresponding to him," implying a wife and a complete household setup.

The Torah obligates us to provide for the poor what they lack, not to make them rich. However, if a person was once wealthy and accustomed to a certain lifestyle (e.g., riding a horse with servants running before him), then "what he lacks" must be understood relative to his former standard of living. The community must provide for him according to his accustomed lifestyle.

The Gemara tells a story about Hillel the Elder. He once paid for a horse for a poor man, a former rich man's son, and a servant to run before him. One time, he couldn't find a servant, so he himself ran three miles in front of the man, demonstrating his dedication to fulfilling the poor man's needs according to his accustomed level.

Another story involves the men of the Upper Galilee. They supported a poor man from Tzipori, who was a former rich man's son, with a litra of meat every day. The Gemara questions the significance of a "litra of meat," as it doesn't seem like a large amount. Rabbi Yonatan explains that it refers to bird meat, which was expensive. Another interpretation is that "litra" refers to the weight of the money required to purchase the meat, indicating its high cost. Rav Ashi offers a third explanation: The man lived in a small village, and to provide him with a small piece of meat daily, they had to slaughter a whole animal, with the rest going to waste. Thus, they effectively paid for a whole animal every day for his small portion, reflecting the high cost of maintaining his accustomed diet.

A man once came to Rabbi Nehemiah, stating he was accustomed to eating fatty meat and aged wine. Rabbi Nehemiah, who was eating lentils, invited him to join. The man ate lentils and died. Rabbi Nehemiah exclaimed, "Woe to the man who brought this upon himself!" The Gemara questions this, suggesting the woe should be on Rabbi Nehemiah for causing his death. However, Rabbi Nehemiah believed the man was responsible for his own overly refined tastes. The previous stories of providing for the poor according to their former lifestyle applied to those who were "sons of rich people" (ani ben tovim), meaning their accustomed lifestyle was not their fault. This man, however, had cultivated his own finicky habits, and Rabbi Nehemiah felt no obligation to indulge them.

A man came before Rava, stating his usual meal was stuffed chicken and aged wine. Rava questioned if he wasn't worried about burdening the community with such expensive tastes. The man replied, "Am I eating from you? I am not eating from the community. The Creator of the World provides my sustenance." He cited the verse: "You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing in its time," emphasizing that sustenance is individual and provided by God according to each person's needs. At that moment, Rava's sister, whom he hadn't seen in 13 years, arrived with a gift: stuffed chicken and aged wine. Rava, realizing the man's faith was justified, apologized for his harsh words and told the man to eat the food.

The Rabbis taught: If a person is poor but unwilling to accept charity, one should give him the money as a loan. After he accepts it, it is not collected back. Alternatively, one should offer it as a gift, and if he refuses, then offer it as a loan (which will also not be collected). The difference lies in the approach. One opinion suggests starting with a loan, as the person might be too proud to accept a gift. The other suggests starting with a gift, as it might be less embarrassing, and only if refused, offer a loan. The underlying principle is to preserve the poor person's dignity. Rabbi Bir holds that since the person is already known to be embarrassed and not approaching charity collectors, one should not further embarrass him by offering a gift first; rather, offer a loan directly. The Sages argue that while he might be embarrassed to ask, he might accept a gift if offered, and only if he refuses that, offer a loan.

The Gemara then discusses a case where a person has money but refuses to spend it on himself (a miser). The Rabbis say: "We give him money as a gift, and then we collect it back from him." This is done to prevent him from starving himself. However, the Gemara questions how they can collect it back, as this would deter him from accepting further aid. The answer is that they collect it from his estate after he dies, not during his lifetime. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, however, holds that if a person has money but refuses to spend it on himself, "we are not obligated to him," meaning it's his own fault.

The Gemara presents another case: a person who has nothing but also refuses to accept charity. One should tell him: "Bring collateral and take [the money]." This is a ploy to preserve his pride. They don't actually intend to collect the loan or keep the collateral. The mere act of asking for collateral makes him feel he is taking a legitimate loan, not charity. Even if he says he has no collateral, they tell him it's fine, and he can provide it later, still maintaining the pretense of a loan.

The verse "You shall surely give him" (Ha'avet ta'avitenoo) is interpreted to cover these cases. "Ha'avet" refers to the person who has nothing but refuses to take charity (so you give him a loan). "Ta'avitenoo" refers to the person who has money but refuses to spend it on himself (so you give him a gift and collect it from his estate). According to Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, the second phrase "Ta'avitenoo" is merely the Torah speaking in the vernacular, not indicating a separate halachic case.

The Gemara tells a story about Mar Ukva. He had a poor person in his neighborhood to whom he would secretly deposit four zuz daily through a hole in the threshold of his house. One day, the poor man decided to stake out the door to discover his benefactor. That day, Mar Ukva was delayed from the study hall, and his wife accompanied him. When the poor man saw them approaching, he ran towards them. Mar Ukva and his wife, not wanting to be identified and embarrass the recipient, ran away. They ended up jumping into a freshly cleaned, but still boiling hot, oven. Mar Ukva's leg was burned. His wife told him to place his leg on hers, as her legs were not burning. Mar Ukva felt bad, wondering why his wife was more righteous than he. She explained that she gives charity directly, providing bread, so the benefit to the poor is immediate. He gives money, which requires the poor to then go buy food, making her act of charity more immediate and thus of a higher level.

The Gemara asks: Why did they jump into an oven in the first place? It answers: "It is better for a person to jump into a fiery furnace than to embarrass his friend in public." This demonstrates their profound commitment to preserving the dignity of others. Their instinctive action, without deliberation, reveals that this principle was deeply ingrained in their character. They were willing to sacrifice their lives to prevent the poor man's embarrassment, trusting in God's will.

Where did they learn this from? From the story of Tamar. When she was about to be burned for perceived promiscuity, she could have publicly identified Judah as the father, which would have greatly embarrassed him. Instead, she subtly presented him with his staff and signet, allowing him to admit his paternity privately. She was willing to die rather than embarrass him publicly.

Another story about Mar Ukva: He had a poor neighbor to whom he would send 400 zuz every Erev Yom Kippur. One year, he sent his son to deliver the money. The son returned, reporting that the man did not need charity, as he saw him sprinkling old wine around his house for fragrance, a practice of the wealthy. Mar Ukva replied that he hadn't realized the man was accustomed to such a lavish lifestyle. Instead of ceasing the charity, he doubled the amount, understanding that he must support the man according to his accustomed standard, as learned earlier in the Gemara.

When Mar Ukva was dying, he asked for his ledger to see how much charity he had given. He saw he had given 7,000 dinars over his lifetime. He exclaimed: "My valise is very light, and the destination is very far!" He felt that even this large sum was insufficient for his journey to the World to Come. He then instructed that half of his remaining estate be given to charity. The Gemara questions how he could give half his estate, as one is generally not allowed to give more than 20% of their assets to charity during their lifetime, to avoid becoming poor oneself. The answer is that this limitation applies only during one's lifetime. Upon death, there is no concern that the donor will become a charity case, so he was permitted to give half his estate to gain more merits for his spiritual journey.