The Talmud Bavli Massechet Baba Kama, specifically the Evi B. Sitt Edition and Audio Series, is generously sponsored in our Dafyomi program by Siyahu Ashar Hakohen and his wife Rina. May they be blessed with continued success, prosperity in all their endeavors, good health, happiness, and much joy from their children. May they enjoy many years of domestic tranquility and peace of mind. Amen.
We begin today's discussion on page 92b, the bottom line. We learned on yesterday's page that we do not allow a priest to possess consecrated produce that has become ritually impure, lest he come to eat it. The Gemara now states that this prohibition, known as a rabbinic decree, is actually a matter of dispute among the Sages. Do we allow a priest to possess ritually impure consecrated produce?
The Mishnah states: If consecrated wine became ritually impure, the School of Shammai says that the entire quantity must be poured out. The School of Hillel says that it may be used for "ziluf," a process of pouring the wine as an offering on the altar, even though it is impure. Rabbi Yishmael, son of Rabbi Yose, proposes a compromise: If the wine became impure in the priest's house, it may be used for ziluf. But if it became impure in the field, it must be poured out entirely. The concern here is the time it takes to transport the impure wine from the field to the house, during which the priest might come to consume it. This compromise suggests a distinction based on location.
The Gemara questions this approach, noting that this is not a typical arbitration where one opinion is chosen over another. Instead, Rabbi Yishmael is introducing a third, novel opinion. The Gemara then offers an alternative interpretation of Rabbi Yishmael's compromise: If the wine is old, it may be used for ziluf because it is readily available for that purpose. But if it is new wine, it must be poured out entirely, as there's a greater concern it might be consumed. Again, the Gemara points out that this is not an arbitration but a new opinion. This demonstrates that the very concept of a rabbinic decree regarding impure consecrated produce is subject to a dispute among the Sages, with the School of Shammai advocating for immediate disposal and the School of Hillel permitting its use for ziluf.
The Gemara further clarifies that Rabbi Yishmael's approach is not a true arbitration because neither the School of Hillel nor the School of Shammai ever mentioned distinctions based on location (house or field) or age (new or old wine). For an arbitration to be valid, it must reconcile existing opinions, not introduce entirely new parameters. Rashi emphasizes that the Sages themselves did not reveal their opinions with such distinctions, making Rabbi Yishmael's a new ruling rather than a resolution.
Returning to the Mishnah, we consider a case where a worker is carrying a barrel of wine, and another person's barrel of honey falls. Knowing that honey is more valuable than wine, the worker empties his wine to save the honey. The Mishnah states that the worker is only compensated for his labor. However, if he explicitly stipulated, "I will empty my wine if you pay me for my wine," then he must be paid for the wine he sacrificed. Abaye questions this, suggesting that the owner of the honey might later claim he was merely joking when he agreed to pay for the wine. He draws an analogy to a person fleeing jail who offers a dinar to a boatman to cross a river. The boatman is only entitled to a standard fee, not the stipulated dinar, because the passenger can claim he was joking to ensure passage. Similarly, the honey owner could claim he was joking to ensure his honey was saved.
The Gemara refutes this analogy. The case of the honey is more akin to the latter part of the ferryboat scenario: if the boatman is a fisherman who explicitly states, "I will take you across, but I will lose fishing time, so pay me a dinar to cover my loss," then the passenger must pay the dinar. The loss is evident and quantifiable. Similarly, in the Mishnah's case, the honey owner sees the worker actively pouring out his wine, an evident loss. Therefore, the owner cannot claim he was joking and must compensate the worker for the wine. An evident loss cannot be dismissed as a joke.
The Mishnah presents two cases: the wine and honey, and two donkeys. In the donkey case, two individuals have donkeys, and both are drowning. One donkey is more valuable than the other. The owner of the cheaper donkey says, "I will abandon my donkey and save yours." If he doesn't stipulate, he is only paid for his labor. But if he stipulates, "I will save your donkey, but you must pay me for mine," then the other owner must pay him. The Gemara asks why two cases are needed, as they seem identical. The answer is that each case teaches a unique nuance. Without the wine and honey case, one might think that full payment for a stipulated loss only applies when the item is already lost (like the drowning donkey). The wine case shows that even when one intentionally destroys their own property, they still get full payment if they stipulated. Conversely, without the donkey case, one might think that even without stipulation, one gets full payment for intentionally destroying their property (like pouring out wine). The donkey case clarifies that without stipulation, only labor is paid, even for an already lost item. Thus, both cases are necessary to establish the precise conditions for full compensation.
Next, consider a situation where someone agrees to sacrifice his donkey to save his friend's, with the friend promising to pay for the sacrificed donkey. Miraculously, the first person's donkey saves itself and returns. The question is whether the friend still has to pay. The ruling is that he does. The friend made a commitment, and the return of the donkey is a separate blessing from Heaven, not a reason to nullify the agreement. This is illustrated by a story about Rav Safra, who was part of a caravan that traveled with a protective lion. Each night, one member had to feed the lion a donkey. When it was Rav Safra's turn, he threw his donkey to the lion, but the lion did not eat it. Rav Safra retrieved his donkey. The caravan members did not demand he provide another donkey, as his obligation was fulfilled. The return of his donkey was a divine gift, not a reason to renege on the communal agreement. Similarly, in the donkey case, the friend must fulfill his promise.
A side question arises: Why did Rav Safra have to retrieve his donkey? It was his property, not abandoned to everyone, only to the lion. The Gemara answers that he did so to avoid dispute with the other caravan members, to clearly demonstrate his ownership. Thus, the principle stands: a person's good fortune (his donkey returning) does not negate a prior commitment made by another.
Another question: What if someone went to save his friend's donkey but was unsuccessful? Does the friend still have to pay for the first donkey? The answer is no. He only pays for the effort, the labor, not for the value of the donkey, because the rescue was not completed. This is likened to hiring a worker to gather cabbage and prunes for a sick person. Even if the patient dies or recovers before the worker returns, the worker is still paid for his labor because he completed his task of gathering the items. However, in the donkey case, the worker did not fulfill the primary mission of saving the donkey. Therefore, he is only compensated for his labor, not the full value of the donkey he was prepared to sacrifice.
The discussion then shifts to a case from Massechet Bava Metzia. A caravan traveling through the desert is attacked by robbers. To settle with the robbers, they agree to pay a certain sum. The payment is calculated proportionally to each person's wealth, not by the number of people. This is because the robbers seek money, not lives. However, if they hired a guide to lead them through the desert, the guide's fee is calculated both by wealth and by the number of people, because the guide protects them from the danger of getting lost, which is a danger to life. Rashi explains that the guide saves them from both financial and life-threatening dangers. The Mishnah concludes by stating that one should not deviate from the established custom of guides regarding payment.
Another halakha: Members of a caravan with donkeys can make a condition among themselves that if anyone loses a donkey, the others will compensate him. This acts as a form of insurance, encouraging mutual vigilance. However, if a donkey is lost due to the owner's negligence, he is not compensated. If the owner of a lost donkey asks for money to buy a new one, promising to continue watching the others' donkeys, the group is not obligated to give him money. Their agreement was to compensate him with a donkey, not cash. They want him to have a donkey as an incentive to remain an active and invested member of the group, ensuring collective security. Giving him money might remove that incentive. The Gemara clarifies that even if he has another donkey, they still want him to have two, to ensure maximum vigilance.
A similar case from Massechet Bava Metzia involves a boat caught in a storm, where luggage must be thrown overboard to lighten the load. The loss is divided among the passengers based on the weight of their luggage, not its monetary value. For example, if one person throws 100 pounds of gold overboard, and another throws 100 pounds of iron, they are both considered to have contributed equally by weight. However, here too, one should not deviate from the local custom if it dictates otherwise.
Next, if a group of ships travels together and they agree that if one ship is lost, the others will provide a replacement. If a ship is lost due to negligence, they do not replace it. If it is lost without negligence, they do replace it. However, if a ship deviates from the usual course to a dangerous area where ships are commonly lost, they do not replace it. The Gemara asks why this last point is necessary, as deviating to a dangerous area is clearly negligence. The Gemara explains that it refers to a specific scenario: in the month of Nisan (spring), when tides are high, boats can travel closer to the shore, perhaps a rope's length away. In Tishrei (fall), when tides are low, they must stay two rope lengths away. If a captain in Nisan travels at the distance usually reserved for Tishrei, he might argue he's accustomed to that route. The Mishnah teaches us that even in Nisan, such a deviation is considered negligence, and no replacement is due.
A story from a Baraita: A caravan traveling in the desert is attacked and plundered. One person manages to recover some of the stolen goods. If he explicitly states, "I am saving this for myself," then he keeps it. Otherwise, he must share it with the others. The Gemara explains that this applies when the caravan members were partners in the stolen money. If everyone could have saved their own money, then the rescuer's declaration is crucial. If he says he's saving it for himself, he effectively dissolves the partnership and keeps his share. If he says nothing, he's presumed to be acting for the partnership, and the recovered goods are split. Even if the others could have saved their money, his declaration of "for myself" is valid because he took the risk. If he recovered more than his share, that extra amount must be distributed among the partners. This is because a partner who goes to great lengths to save communal property is still bound by the partnership unless he explicitly dissolves it.
The discussion then considers a scenario where the rescuer was a paid worker for the caravan, and the owners themselves were unable to save the goods. We have a rule that a worker can quit his job even midday. While he is working, anything he acquires belongs to his employer. But if he quits, he is free to keep what he acquires. So, if the worker recovered the goods while still employed, he must give them to the group. But if he quit his job before recovering the goods, he can keep them for himself. The reason a worker can quit midday is based on a verse stating, "For they are My servants, whom I brought forth out of the land of Egypt; they shall not be sold as bondmen" (Leviticus 25:42), implying that no one can be a slave to another human. Thus, a worker can always retract his commitment, though he only gets paid for the time he worked.
The final answer, according to Rav Nachman, is that the case refers to a situation where everyone could have saved their money, but it would have been difficult. If the rescuer explicitly declared he was saving it for himself, and the others remained silent and did not attempt to save their own, it is assumed they gave up hope, and he keeps it. However, if he did not declare his intention, they would assume he was acting for the group, and he must share the recovered goods.