The discussion opens with a fundamental question posed by the Gemara concerning the purpose of burial: Is it to prevent the body from suffering embarrassment, or is it to provide atonement? The practical implication of this distinction lies in a scenario where a deceased person, prior to their passing, expressed a wish not to be buried. If burial's purpose is to prevent embarrassment of the deceased, then the individual cannot waive this requirement, as it is not solely for their benefit. However, if burial is for atonement, the individual could conceivably forgo it, stating they do not desire atonement.
To resolve this, the Gemara first considers the burial of righteous individuals. If burial were solely for atonement, why would righteous people, who presumably have no sins, require it? This would suggest that burial is for preventing embarrassment. However, the Gemara counters this by citing a verse, "There is no righteous person on earth who does good and does not sin," implying that even the most righteous may have minor deficiencies requiring atonement. Thus, the burial of a righteous person could still be for atonement, and this line of reasoning does not conclusively answer the question.
Next, the Gemara brings the example of Aviyah, the son of Yerovam ben Nevat. Unlike the rest of his wicked family, Aviyah was buried. If burial is for atonement, why were the other wicked members of Yerovam's family not buried, as they would surely need atonement? The Gemara responds that they were so wicked that God deemed them undeserving of atonement, even through burial. This again leaves the question unresolved.
A further proof is sought from the prophet Yirmiyahu's prophecy against the wicked people of Anathoth, stating they would not be eulogized or buried. If burial's purpose is to prevent embarrassment, this prophecy implies God desired their humiliation. However, the Gemara suggests that God's intent was to deny them atonement. Since no conclusive proof is found, the Gemara leaves this initial question regarding the purpose of burial unanswered.
The Gemara then proceeds to a similar question regarding eulogies: Is a eulogy a tribute to the living (for the honor of the family) or to the deceased? The practical difference arises if a person requests not to be eulogized. If the eulogy honors the deceased, they can waive it. If it honors the living, they cannot. Another practical difference is whether inheritors can be compelled to pay for eulogizers. If it's for the deceased's honor, they can be compelled; if for the living's, they cannot.
The Gemara first cites Avraham's eulogy for Sarah. The verse states, "And Avraham came to eulogize Sarah and to weep for her," implying a delay in burial while waiting for Avraham. If eulogies are for the honor of the living, would Sarah's burial be delayed for Avraham's honor? This suggests the eulogy is for the deceased. However, the Gemara counters that Sarah, being loyal to Avraham, would have wanted him to receive honor at her funeral, effectively waiving her own immediate burial for his sake. Thus, this proof is inconclusive.
The example of Aviyah, son of Yerovam, is revisited. He was eulogized, unlike his wicked family. If eulogies are for the living, why would God grant honor to Aviyah's wicked family? This suggests the eulogy is for the deceased. The Gemara replies that righteous individuals like Aviyah do not mind if wicked people receive honor through their death. Again, the proof is not definitive.
The prophecy against Anathoth is also brought up again, where the wicked would not be eulogized. If eulogies honor the living, why would God punish the living by denying them honor due to the deceased's wickedness? This implies the eulogy is for the deceased. Yet, the Gemara argues that the righteous living would not want to receive honor at the death of the wicked, thus willingly forgoing it. This proof also falls short.
The Gemara then considers the prophecy to Tzidkiyahu HaMelech, promising him a peaceful death and a grand eulogy, "And they shall eulogize you as a master." If eulogies are for the living, why would Tzidkiyahu care about being eulogized? This implies the eulogy is for the deceased. The Gemara explains that Tzidkiyahu would be pleased that the Jewish people would receive honor through his eulogy, just as they did through his righteous ancestors, the kings of Judah. This, too, fails to provide a conclusive answer.
The Gemara then brings a verse from Tehillim about a righteous person who "is despised in his own eyes," referring to Hizkiyahu melekh Yehudah. Hizkiyahu dragged his wicked father Achaz's bones through the streets on a bed of ropes, a degrading act, to inspire moral reflection among the people. If eulogies are for the living, why would Hizkiyahu disgrace his own family, thereby taking away the honor of the living? This suggests the eulogy is for the deceased. The Gemara responds that Hizkiyahu did this to provide atonement for his father. The counter-argument is that this would come at the expense of the honor of the Jewish people. The Gemara replies that the Jewish people were willing to forgo their honor out of respect for Hizkiyahu's desire to atone for his father. Therefore, this proof is also not conclusive.
The Gemara then considers the instructions of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi before his death, who requested not to be eulogized in small villages, but only in large cities, to ensure a larger gathering. If eulogies are for the living, why would Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi care about the size of the crowd? This implies the eulogy is for the deceased. The Gemara explains that he wished for the Jewish people to receive greater honor through a larger gathering, demonstrating their respect for Torah. This, too, is not a definitive proof.
Finally, the Gemara refers to a Mishnah that states one is not liable for delaying a burial "for the honor of the deceased," for example, to procure a coffin or shrouds. This implies that these actions are for the deceased's honor, suggesting the eulogy is for the deceased. The Gemara challenges this: if it's for the honor of the living, would one delay burial for their sake? The Gemara responds that the prohibition against leaving a body overnight applies when there is an element of disgrace, similar to an executed person left on a tree. However, delaying for a coffin or shrouds is not a disgrace; it is an act of honor for the living, and thus permissible. This still doesn't resolve the core question.
The Gemara then presents a conclusive proof from Rabbi Natan, who states that a bad sign for the deceased, such as not being eulogized, not being properly buried, or the body being dragged by an animal or exposed to rain, is actually a good sign because it indicates atonement in this world. This implies that the eulogy's honor, and its converse, the shame, are directly connected to the deceased. If the shame serves as atonement for the deceased, then the honor must also be for the deceased. Thus, it is conclusively proven that a eulogy is a tribute to the deceased.
The Mishnah states that those executed by the court are not buried with their family but in special cemeteries. This is because a wicked person is not buried next to a righteous person. The Gemara asks for the source of this rule. Rabbi Acha bar Chanina cites the story of a man being buried who, when his body was hastily thrown into the cave of Elisha HaNavi to escape Moabite soldiers, touched Elisha's bones and was resurrected. This miracle occurred to prevent a wicked person from being buried alongside a righteous one.
Rav Pappa challenges this, suggesting the resurrection might have been to fulfill the prophecy that Elisha would have double the power of his teacher, Eliyahu HaNavi, who had resurrected a child. Abaye refutes this, noting that the resurrected man "stood on his feet but did not go home," meaning he only revived temporarily to leave Elisha's grave before dying again and being reburied elsewhere. This temporary resurrection, therefore, does not count as Elisha's second full resurrection. Rabbi Yochanan then clarifies that Elisha's second resurrection was the healing of Na'aman's leprosy, as a leper is considered like a dead person, as implied by the verse "Let her not be as one dead" regarding Miriam's leprosy.
The Gemara extends the principle: just as a wicked person is not buried next to a righteous one, a severely wicked person is not buried next to a less wicked one. This leads to a question about the two cemeteries designated for those executed by the court. There are four types of capital punishment (stoning, burning, beheading, strangulation), implying four degrees of wickedness. Why then are there only two cemeteries (one for stoning and burning, and another for beheading and strangulation)? The Gemara answers that this is a Halakhah le-Moshe mi-Sinai, a law transmitted to Moses at Sinai, and thus not subject to logical inquiry.
Ulla, in the name of Rabbi Yochanan, discusses a case where someone ate forbidden fat (cheilev) unintentionally and designated an animal for a sin-offering. If he then became an apostate (mumar) and later repented, the animal, having been "pushed away" (invalidated) during his apostasy, remains invalid. The principle is: "once pushed away, it stays pushed away." A similar ruling is given for someone who designated an animal for a sin-offering, then became insane, and later regained sanity. The animal remains invalid. The Gemara explains that both cases are necessary: the apostate's case shows that voluntary invalidation is significant, while the insane person's case shows that even involuntary invalidation is significant, unlike sleep, which is temporary and not a full invalidation. Conversely, the apostate's case shows that even if one can return to a valid state, the invalidation stands, while the insane person's case might otherwise be understood as invalidating because he could not return to sanity on his own.
Rav Yosef seeks to prove this principle from the laws of an Ir Hanidachat (a city whose majority worships idolatry, requiring its destruction). If consecrated animals fit for the altar (like an olah or shelamim) are found in such a city, they must be killed. Consecrated items for Temple maintenance, however, are redeemed. The Gemara asks why the altar offerings must be killed. After the city's inhabitants are executed, they receive atonement and are considered righteous. Thus, their offerings should no longer be considered "sacrifices of the wicked" and should be brought. The Gemara concludes that the reason they are killed is because they were temporarily invalidated when the city became an Ir Hanidachat, and "once pushed away, it stays pushed away."
Abaye challenges this, arguing that death by execution for wickedness does not automatically grant atonement. He brings a Baraita that states a Kohen is not permitted to become ritually impure for a close relative who has "separated from the ways of the community" (e.g., became an apostate), even after their death. This shows that such a person remains considered wicked even after death, and their death does not grant atonement.
Rava distinguishes between a natural death of a wicked person and an execution by the court. A natural death of a wicked person who did not repent does not grant atonement. However, death by court execution, being an unnatural and prescribed punishment, does grant atonement. Therefore, the people of an Ir Hanidachat, being executed by the court, would receive atonement.
To support his view, Rava cites a verse from Tehillim describing the destruction of the Temple, where the bodies of "Your servants" and "Your pious ones" were left for birds and animals. He explains that "Your servants" refers to those who were initially wicked but received atonement through their death at the hands of gentiles, thus becoming "servants." This implies that an unnatural death, even if not by the court, can grant atonement.
The Gemara then distinguishes between those killed by gentiles (Harugei Malchut), whose deaths are considered atonement because they were killed unjustly, and those killed by the court (Harugei Beit Din), whose deaths are just punishment and thus not atonement. This would mean the people of an Ir Hanidachat, killed by the court, do not receive atonement.
The Gemara then brings a Mishnah that states those executed by the court are not buried in their ancestral graves, because a wicked person is not buried next to a righteous one. If death by court execution granted immediate atonement, they should be buried in regular cemeteries. This implies they are still considered wicked immediately after death. The Gemara responds that atonement requires two stages: death and burial. Once buried, they become righteous.
Rav Adda bar Ahava challenges this from another Mishnah, which states that the family members of those executed by the court are not permitted to observe public mourning, only private grief. If burial immediately grants atonement, they should be allowed to mourn publicly. The Gemara clarifies that atonement requires three stages: death, burial, and the beginning of the body's decomposition. This is supported by the Mishnah, which states that once the flesh decays, the bones are reinterred in their proper family graves.
Rav Ashi offers a different explanation: atonement occurs after death and burial, specifically when the body experiences the initial pain of the grave. The reason public mourning is forbidden is that the laws of mourning begin when the grave is sealed. At that moment, the deceased is still considered wicked, and the atonement (and thus the change in status to righteous) happens a few moments later. Since the mourning period did not begin at the proper time due to the deceased's initial wicked status, it is permanently rejected. The reason reinterment for decomposition is still required is that it is physically impossible to move the body once decay begins until it is fully decomposed.
The Gemara then shifts to the laws of graves. At the grave of Rav, people would take dirt as a charm for a one-day fever. They asked Shmuel if this was permissible, as a grave is forbidden for benefit. Shmuel replied that it was permissible because "the ground of the world" is not forbidden. He supports this by comparing a grave to an Asherah (an idolatrous tree). Just as an Asherah is not forbidden for benefit if it is attached to the ground, so too the ground of a grave is not forbidden. This is derived from a verse stating that God's people inherited "their gods on the high mountains," implying that the mountains themselves, being attached, were not considered forbidden, only the idols on them.
A challenge is raised against Shmuel: if one carves out a grave for their father but then buries him elsewhere, that grave is permanently forbidden for use. This implies that even the ground becomes forbidden. Shmuel responds that this refers to a constructed grave (a mausoleum) made of stones, which are not attached to the ground and thus become forbidden. The ground itself remains permissible. This answer is used to resolve several further challenges, including the case of a new grave that becomes forbidden even if only a stillborn baby is placed in it, and the different categories of graves (found, known, or public nuisance), all of which involve a grave that is forbidden for benefit.
The Gemara then discusses a weaver who makes a shroud for a deceased person. Abaye rules that it is forbidden for benefit, while Rava permits it. This hinges on a fundamental dispute: does mere designation (hazmanah) make an item forbidden, or is an actual action required? Abaye argues that designation is significant, drawing a comparison from the word "there" (sham) found in the context of death and in the context of an Eglah Arufah (a calf whose neck is broken to atone for an unsolved murder). Just as the designation of an Eglah Arufah makes it forbidden, so too the designation of a shroud for the deceased makes it forbidden.
Rava also uses the word "there" but draws a comparison to idolatry. Just as the designation of an object for idolatry does not make it forbidden until it is actually worshipped, so too the designation of a shroud for the deceased does not make it forbidden until it is actually used. Rava explains his preference for the idolatry comparison because the shroud is an accessory to the deceased, similar to an accessory to idolatry, whereas the Eglah Arufah is the primary item itself. Abaye, in turn, explains his preference for the Eglah Arufah comparison because it represents a common Jewish practice, while idolatry is an uncommon transgression, making its designation less binding as people are likely to change their minds.