This study of Massechet Shabbat has been dedicated by Benjamin Stavrash for a complete recovery for all the sick of Israel. This page is being studied for the elevation of the soul of Shimon ben Julia and has also been dedicated by Ariel Uzziel in honor of the rabbi. May he have a long life and many good years; amen, may it be God’s will.
We begin today’s daf on 143b, amud bet, with the statement of Rav Yehuda near the bottom of the page. We are discussing the laws of squeezing produce on Shabbat, specifically the juice that emerges from fruits. Yesterday, we cited a baraita that presented the opinion of Rabbi Yehuda. The baraita was clear: if a person brings fruit into his house for eating, and juice happens to ooze from it on Shabbat, we are not concerned that he will come to squeeze the fruit. On the contrary, he is upset that the juice came out, because he wants to eat the fruit and wants the juice to remain inside it. Therefore, he may drink the liquid that emerged, although he may not squeeze the fruit himself.
If, however, he brought the fruit into the house for its juice—that is, his intention was to squeeze it—and the juice emerged on its own on Shabbat, he may not drink that liquid. The concern is that, because he wanted the juice, he might come to squeeze the fruit himself, which would constitute squeezing on Shabbat.
The novel point of the baraita is that this applies not only when he explicitly brought the fruit in for its juice, but even when he brought it in without a specific intention. Ordinarily, an unspecified intention is treated stringently in this case. What does “unspecified” mean? He brought the fruit into his house on Friday without deciding whether he intended to eat it or drink its juice. Then, on Shabbat, the juice emerged. According to the baraita, he may not drink that liquid. The basic question, therefore, is that Rabbi Yehuda treats an unspecified case as though the fruit had been brought in for its juice.
The Gemara challenges this from another source: “Are you saying that Rabbi Yehuda considers an unspecified case prohibited?” The source cited there is not discussing squeezing fruit, but rather the different liquids that can make an object susceptible to ritual impurity. As we learned, there are seven liquids that can prepare an object to receive ritual impurity. Milk is one of those liquids. If milk falls on a fruit, the fruit becomes susceptible to ritual impurity, provided that the milk reached it willingly. If the liquid reached the fruit entirely against the owner’s will, it normally would not be considered an act of preparation.
We have a Massechet Makhshirin teaching concerning a woman’s milk: a woman’s milk can make an object susceptible to ritual impurity whether it emerged willingly or unwillingly. Sometimes a woman deliberately expresses milk from her body. For example, she may have an excess of milk and want to remove it. In other cases, the milk simply drips out, without any intention on her part. Even so, a woman’s milk has the status of a liquid that can prepare an object to receive ritual impurity in both circumstances.
Animal milk, however, has a different status. It makes an object susceptible only when it emerges willingly. Thus, the teaching states that a woman’s milk has this status whether it emerges willingly or unwillingly, whereas animal milk has this status only when it emerges willingly.
The reason given is that a woman’s milk is considered a significant liquid under all circumstances. The verse says, “She opened her container of milk and gave them drink,” demonstrating that milk is considered a liquid. Once we know that milk is a liquid, we must distinguish between the milk of a woman and the milk of an animal. A woman’s milk is considered significant in every circumstance, whereas animal milk is treated as a significant liquid only when it emerges willingly.
Rabbi Akiva challenges this distinction with an a fortiori argument. Who drinks a woman’s milk? Primarily infants. Nevertheless, the Torah treats it as a significant liquid, capable of preparing an object to receive ritual impurity whether it emerged willingly or unwillingly. Animal milk, by contrast, is consumed by children and adults alike. Since it is consumed by more people, it should certainly be at least as significant as a woman’s milk. If a woman’s milk, which is limited to infants, is always considered a significant liquid, then animal milk, which is consumed by children and adults, should also always be considered a liquid for these purposes. Why should it matter how it emerged?
The Sages answer that there is an important distinction. A woman’s milk is connected to blood. We learned elsewhere that blood is transformed into milk. Blood that emerges from a body is considered a liquid even when it comes out unwillingly. Therefore, a woman’s milk has a special status because of its connection to blood. Animal milk, however, does not have that same connection to blood, and therefore there is room to be more lenient when it emerges unwillingly.
The source for the status of blood is the teaching that blood from a wound is considered a liquid. Whether a person has been injured in the hand or the leg, the blood that emerges from the body is considered a liquid. The discussion even considers the blood of an animal: ordinary blood from an animal’s body is not necessarily treated in the same manner, whereas blood from slaughter is treated as a liquid because the verse says that the blood should be poured out like water.
Rabbi Akiva responds that one should not derive the status of animal milk from blood. In fact, milk is treated more stringently than blood in this regard. When milk is expressed from an animal for medical purposes—for example, when an animal has too much milk and the milk must be removed so that the animal will not become ill—it is considered a liquid capable of preparing an object to receive ritual impurity. Yet when blood is removed from an animal for medical purposes, it does not have that same status. Thus, the comparison to blood does not undermine Rabbi Akiva’s a fortiori argument. On the contrary, milk is treated more stringently than blood, and animal milk should therefore be considered a liquid even when it emerges unwillingly.
The Sages then bring a different proof. They discuss olives and grapes placed in baskets. Such baskets have openings, and as the olives and grapes are carried, their oil or juice drips out. The liquid that emerges from them is considered a liquid for the laws of ritual preparation. The Sages distinguish between a case in which the owner wants the liquid to emerge and a case in which he does not want it to emerge. This distinction already appears with olives and grapes; it was not introduced specifically with regard to milk.
The Sages therefore say to Rabbi Akiva: your comparison between a woman’s milk and blood is unnecessary. Even with olives and grapes, which are placed in baskets and whose liquids emerge naturally, we distinguish between a liquid that emerges willingly and one that emerges unwillingly. Accordingly, the same distinction should apply to animal milk.
The Gemara then examines precisely what “willingly” and “unwillingly” mean in that teaching. One might understand “willingly” to mean that the owner wants the liquid to emerge, while “unwillingly” means that he does not want it to emerge. But the Gemara considers another possibility: perhaps “willingly” means that the liquid emerges in an unspecified situation. Since olives and grapes are normally intended to produce oil and wine, even an unspecified case may be treated as though the owner wants the liquid to emerge. “Unwillingly,” according to this interpretation, would mean an unspecified case.
If that is the interpretation, the Gemara asks, we have a difficulty with the baraita concerning Rabbi Yehuda. Rabbi Yehuda said that if a person brings certain fruits into his house without a specific intention, the juice that emerges is treated as though the fruit had been brought in for its juice, and he may not drink it. But if even olives and grapes, which are specifically intended to produce oil and wine, are not considered liquids in an unspecified case, then ordinary fruits such as figs and pomegranates certainly should not be treated as though they had been brought in for their juice.
The Gemara answers that perhaps “willingly” means exactly what it ordinarily means: the owner wants the liquid to emerge, and “unwillingly” means that he does not want it to emerge. In that case, there is no contradiction to Rabbi Yehuda. When the baraita speaks about an unspecified case involving fruits in the house, it can still say that an unspecified intention is treated stringently. The teaching about olives and grapes is discussing a case in which the owner explicitly does or does not want the liquid to emerge.
The Gemara offers another answer. There is a difference between fruit placed in a basket with holes and fruit brought into one’s house. When olives and grapes are placed in a basket with openings, the liquid that emerges is lost on the ground. That provides an external indication that the owner does not care about the liquid. Therefore, even if he did not explicitly say that he does not want it, we can infer from the fact that he placed the fruit in such a basket that he is not interested in the juice.
When a person brings fruit into his house, however, there is no such indication. The juice that emerges will not be lost on the ground; it may be preserved. Therefore, in that case, an unspecified intention can be treated more stringently, as though the person intended to benefit from the liquid. This distinction reconciles the teaching about olives and grapes with Rabbi Yehuda’s position concerning fruit brought into the house.
The Gemara then returns to the larger dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and the Sages. Yesterday, we tried to define the scope of their disagreement. Rabbi Yehuda distinguishes between fruit brought into the house for eating and fruit brought in for its juice. If it was brought in for eating, one may drink the liquid that emerged, because the person does not want the fruit to lose its juice. If it was brought in for its juice, one may not drink the liquid, because the person might come to squeeze the fruit. The Sages do not make this distinction and prohibit the liquid in both cases.
We find that Rabbi Yehuda agrees with the Sages concerning olives and grapes. Regardless of why they were brought into the house, one may not drink the liquid that emerges from them. Since olives and grapes are generally associated with oil and wine, the concern that a person might come to squeeze them applies even when they were brought in for eating.
The question is whether the Sages agree with Rabbi Yehuda concerning other fruits. The answer is that they agree with him regarding ordinary fruits, apart from figs and pomegranates. With ordinary fruits, the Sages also distinguish between fruit brought in for eating and fruit brought in for its juice. The disagreement between Rabbi Yehuda and the Sages is therefore limited to figs and pomegranates: Rabbi Yehuda distinguishes between the person’s intention, while the Sages treat them like olives and grapes and prohibit the liquid regardless of the original intention.
The Gemara brings a teaching concerning quinces, a type of fruit called piggein, and a type of wild apple called uzradin. Squeezing these fruits on Shabbat is permitted because squeezing them is not their normal manner of use. They contain little juice, and people do not ordinarily squeeze them. This is a new category. Until now, we were discussing fruit that is normally intended to be squeezed, and the question was whether the liquid that emerged may be consumed. Here, the teaching says that these fruits may even be squeezed initially, because squeezing them is not the customary manner of using them.
The teaching then adds that pomegranates may not be squeezed. No one disputes that point. The earlier discussion of Rabbi Yehuda concerned liquid that emerged by itself, not the act of squeezing pomegranates on Shabbat. Even Rabbi Yehuda does not permit squeezing pomegranates. The question is only what to do with juice that emerged without anyone squeezing the fruit.
The Gemara cites a household of Menashe bar Menachem. During the week, members of that household were accustomed to squeeze pomegranates. The Gemara initially suggests that this may explain why pomegranates are treated differently from quinces and the other fruits. Although people generally do not squeeze pomegranates, the fact that this household did so may demonstrate that squeezing pomegranates is a recognized use.
The Gemara points out that this is difficult. Can the entire halachic status of pomegranates be determined by the practice of one household? Perhaps the practice of Menashe bar Menachem is insignificant and is nullified by the practice of the rest of the world. The Gemara nevertheless says that the halachic ruling follows the practice of that household.
At first, this seems to mean that the ruling follows the baraita that prohibits squeezing pomegranates on Shabbat. However, that still requires explanation. A single household is not the same as a widespread custom. The Gemara therefore compares this case to another discussion concerning thorns growing in a vineyard. Some people leave thorns in their fields because their animals eat them. Rabbi Eliezer says that if a person intentionally maintains such growth, it can create a prohibition involving the vineyard. The Sages say that this applies only when it is customary for people to leave such thorns in their fields; ordinarily, people remove them.
The Gemara observes that in Arabia people do leave thorns in their fields for their camels. Although this is not the practice of everyone, an established practice in one entire region is sufficient to demonstrate that leaving the thorns is a recognized agricultural practice. The Gemara distinguishes that case from the household of Menashe bar Menachem. Arabia is an entire region with an established custom, whereas Menashe bar Menachem was only one family.
The Gemara then discusses a case involving beet juice. A person squeezed beets, and the juice entered a ritual bath and changed the color of the water. The question is whether the changed color invalidates the ritual bath. One possibility is that only a liquid is capable of invalidating the bath by changing its appearance. Since people do not ordinarily squeeze beets, the juice would not normally be considered a significant liquid.
Another possibility is that the person who squeezed the beets demonstrated through his action that he considers the juice significant. Since he intentionally extracted it and wanted it, he has given it the status of a liquid. This is the principle that an object can acquire significance through a person’s intention and use of it. Even if other people do not treat beet juice as a normal beverage, this person has made it significant for himself.
This principle could explain why squeezing quinces and the other unusual fruits for their juice would be prohibited. Although squeezing them is not customary, if a person specifically wants their juice, his intention gives the liquid significance. Thus, the baraita can be understood as follows: if the juice emerges on its own, one may drink it because squeezing such fruits is not customary and there is no concern that a person will come to squeeze them. If, however, the person himself squeezes them because he wants the juice, the act is prohibited because his intention has made the juice significant.
The Gemara then offers a different explanation for the beet juice. The reason the ritual bath is invalidated is not necessarily that the juice is considered a significant liquid. Rather, anything from which one cannot make a valid ritual bath can invalidate a ritual bath by changing its appearance. Beet juice is not suitable for making a ritual bath, and therefore it invalidates the bath when it changes the color of the water. According to this explanation, the case of beet juice cannot necessarily be used as proof that personal intention transforms an insignificant substance into a liquid.
To clarify this dispute, the Gemara examines the liquid that emerges from olives during the various stages of pressing. At the first stage, a liquid resembling water emerges from the olives. At a later stage, the olives begin to release another liquid, and when they are pressed more forcefully, additional liquid emerges. The Mishnah discusses whether these different liquids are considered liquids for the laws of ritual impurity and for their ability to invalidate a ritual bath by changing its appearance.
The Mishnah states that if wine, vinegar, or the liquid from olives enters a ritual bath and changes its appearance, the bath is invalid. The Gemara assumes that a liquid must have the status of a significant liquid in order to invalidate the bath in this manner. It therefore asks who is the authority who considers the liquid from olives a liquid.
Rabbi Yaakov says that the liquid from olives is considered a liquid. The first liquid that emerges, however, is not considered significant because the owner does not want it to remain. It is like water and is discarded. The later liquids are considered significant liquids and can therefore invalidate the ritual bath.
Rabbi Shimon says that the liquid from olives is not generally considered a liquid. If the liquid that emerges at the final stage is considered impure, that is because it contains oil. It is the oil within the liquid, not the liquid itself, that gives it the status of a significant liquid.
What is the practical difference between Rabbi Yaakov and Rabbi Shimon? They both agree that the first liquid that emerges is not significant. They also agree that at the final stage there is oil present, and therefore there is a significant liquid. Their disagreement must concern the middle stage, when the olives have been placed in a vat and begin to warm and release liquid. Rabbi Yaakov considers that middle-stage liquid a significant liquid, while Rabbi Shimon does not.
This dispute helps us understand the earlier discussion. One approach holds that a substance must be a significant liquid in order to invalidate a ritual bath merely by changing its appearance. According to that approach, if a person intentionally squeezes beets and thereby demonstrates that the juice is significant to him, the juice can acquire the status of a liquid. This is also the approach that would explain the prohibition against squeezing unusual fruits for their juice through the principle of personal significance.
The other approach says that the ritual bath is invalidated by any substance that cannot itself be used to create a valid ritual bath, regardless of whether the substance has the status of a significant liquid. According to that approach, the case of beet juice does not establish the principle that personal intention transforms the juice into a liquid. The two approaches therefore represent the same underlying dispute: whether the substance must be a significant liquid, or whether it is enough that it cannot be used to create a valid ritual bath and has changed the appearance of the water.
We can now review the structure of the entire discussion. The Mishnah initially dealt with liquid that emerged from fruit on Shabbat. Rabbi Yehuda introduced a distinction based on why the fruit had been brought into the house. If it was brought in for eating, the liquid that emerged may be consumed, because the person does not want the juice to leave the fruit. If it was brought in for its juice, the liquid may not be consumed, because the person might come to squeeze the fruit. The Sages do not distinguish between those intentions and prohibit the liquid in both cases.
Shmuel then narrowed the dispute. He taught that everyone agrees concerning quinces, the other unusual fruits, and similar produce that is not normally squeezed. Such fruits may even be squeezed, because squeezing them is not their normal manner of use. The disagreement concerns figs and pomegranates. Rabbi Yehuda distinguishes based on the person’s original intention, while the Sages treat them like olives and grapes and prohibit the liquid regardless of that intention.
The Gemara sought support for Shmuel from a baraita that permitted squeezing the unusual fruits but prohibited squeezing pomegranates. The initial explanation was that the baraita follows the Sages, who agree with Rabbi Yehuda regarding the unusual fruits but treat pomegranates like olives and grapes. The Gemara then considered whether the baraita might instead follow Rabbi Yehuda, who permits the liquid that emerges from figs and pomegranates in certain circumstances but does not permit squeezing them directly.
The practice of Menashe bar Menachem was then introduced. His household squeezed pomegranates during the week, demonstrating that there were at least some people for whom pomegranate juice was a recognized product. The Gemara uses that practice to explain why pomegranates are treated more stringently than the other unusual fruits. With the unusual fruits, no one is accustomed to extracting the juice, and therefore there is no concern that people will come to squeeze them. With pomegranates, however, once we find people who do extract the juice, there is reason to impose a rabbinic prohibition.
This leads to an important distinction. The fact that one person or one household squeezes pomegranates does not necessarily establish that squeezing pomegranates is the normal manner of use for purposes of the Torah prohibition itself. It does, however, establish that the practice exists and can therefore justify a rabbinic safeguard. The prohibition against squeezing pomegranates is thus not necessarily based on their being universally recognized as fruit intended for juice. It may be based on the concern that a person who sees that the practice exists could come to do it himself.
By contrast, when a person personally wants the juice of an unusual fruit, his own intention may be enough to make the act significant and prohibited. The question is whether the prohibition derives from his personal intention or from the established practice of others. According to the approach based on personal significance, even an unusual fruit becomes subject to the prohibition when the person squeezes it for its juice. According to the approach based on customary practice, the unusual fruit remains outside the ordinary category unless there is an established practice of squeezing it.
This is why the Gemara’s explanation of the ritual bath is so important. If the principle is that personal intention can make an otherwise insignificant liquid significant, then the beet case provides a model for the laws of squeezing. If, however, the ritual bath is invalidated for another reason—because a substance that cannot be used to create a valid bath invalidates the bath when it changes its appearance—then we cannot use the beet case to establish that principle. We must instead explain the prohibition of squeezing unusual fruits through the existence or absence of a recognized practice.
The practical outcome is that everyone agrees that one may not squeeze ordinary juice-producing fruits such as olives, grapes, and, in the relevant discussion, pomegranates. The liquid that emerges from them is also subject to restrictions because of the concern that one may come to squeeze the fruit. With fruits that are not normally squeezed, the liquid that emerges may be permitted, and even squeezing them may be permitted when no one ordinarily does so. However, if a person personally squeezes such a fruit because he wants its juice, some explanations would prohibit the act because his intention gives the juice significance.
The final conclusion is therefore not based on a single principle alone. We must distinguish between the fruit’s normal use, the reason the fruit was brought into the house, whether the liquid emerged by itself or was deliberately extracted, whether the person wants the liquid, and whether other people are known to extract juice from that fruit. These distinctions determine whether the concern is the Torah prohibition of squeezing, the rabbinic prohibition against drinking liquid that emerged on Shabbat, or the separate status of a substance that changes the appearance of a ritual bath.
Accordingly, the discussion returns us to the original issue in the Mishnah. Rabbi Yehuda’s distinction between fruit brought in for eating and fruit brought in for its juice remains relevant to ordinary fruits. Olives, grapes, and the fruits treated like them are more stringent because their liquids are commonly desired. The unusual fruits are more lenient when the liquid merely emerges, because squeezing them is not customary. But when a person deliberately extracts their juice, or when there is an established practice of doing so, the act can become prohibited for a different reason.