Hostname: page-component-74656f9884-2dmjx Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2026-11-07T11:34:32.665Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false
  • English
  • Français

The “Halakhic Kernel” as a Criterion for Dating Babylonian Aggadah: Bavli Ḥullin 110a–b and Parallels

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  20 November 2012

Aaron Amit
Aaron Amit*
Affiliation:
Bar Ilan University, Ramat-Gan, Israel
*
amitaa@mail.biu.ac.il; aaron.glenda@gmail.com

Extract

Contemporary scholarship no longer seeks to identify what was once termed “the historical kernel” of stories in the Bavli. According to scholarly consensus these longer narratives in the Bavli were formulated more or less while the Bavli as a whole was being redacted and, as Jeffrey Rubenstein has argued, reflect later Babylonian rabbinic culture. Regarding the building blocks of these stories, literary analysis at times indicates that what the historian once believed to be primitive exaggeration is in fact the earliest element of the story. With this in mind, Shamma Friedman coined the term “literary kernel” to replace the former “historical kernel.” The advantage of the term “literary kernel” is that it can be defined in a fairly objective way as the common storyline that can be identified by comparing the Bavli narrative with the story as it appears in aggadic sources in the Yerushalmi or other Palestinian traditions.

Information

Type
Research Article
Information
AJS Review , Volume 36 , Issue 2 , November 2012 , pp. 187 - 205
Copyright
Copyright © Association for Jewish Studies 2012

Contemporary scholarship no longer seeks to identify what was once termed “the historical kernel” of stories in the Bavli. According to scholarly consensus these longer narratives in the Bavli were formulated more or less while the Bavli as a whole was being redacted and, as Jeffrey Rubenstein has argued, reflect later Babylonian rabbinic culture.Footnote 1 Regarding the building blocks of these stories, literary analysis at times indicates that what the historian once believed to be primitive exaggeration is in fact the earliest element of the story. With this in mind, Shamma Friedman coined the term “literary kernel” to replace the former “historical kernel.”Footnote 2 The advantage of the term “literary kernel” is that it can be defined in a fairly objective way as the common storyline that can be identified by comparing the Bavli narrative with the story as it appears in aggadic sources in the Yerushalmi or other Palestinian traditions.

When a clear Palestinian literary parallel for a Babylonian story exists, its value for understanding how the story was composed and adapted in Babylonia is unquestionable. But what about stories without Palestinian parallels? What methods can be used to understand how a story in the Bavli was created and to date it?Footnote 3 While turning to non-Jewish sources is certainly a productive direction, they offer some inherent problems: it is rarely possible to find clear sources in the surrounding cultures; these stories are themselves not always easy to date; and elements from outside sources may be later additions rather than the kernel of the story.

In the present study, dedicated to a fascinating narrative in B. Ḥullin 110a–b featuring an enigmatic second-generation Babylonian Amora named Rami bar Dikulei, I would like to turn inward, to halakhic sources within the Bavli itself, and demonstrate how we can use these sources to date a talmudic narrative and show exactly how the storyteller went about creating it. Unlike aggadic traditions, halakhic sources were carefully preserved and transmitted. Though textual variants do of course exist in both halakhah and aggadah, there are far fewer variants—in both content and attributions—in halakhic statements than in aggadic passages. Because halakhic memrot are usually preserved almost word for word, halakhic sources can be of great value for dating narratives when we can prove that the storyteller used them.

Our narrative is found in the midst of a discussion on the kashrut of the cow udder in B. Ḥullin 110a–b; it has no clear parallel in Palestinian sources, and no strikingly similar story exists in Babylonian sources. Mishnah Ḥullin 8:3 rules that in order to to be eaten, an udder should be cut open and emptied:

Concerning the udder [הַכּחָל], one tears it open prior to its preparation and extracts its milk. If he did not tear it open but rather prepared it as is, he does not transgress on account of it.

The adjacent sugya (B. Ḥullin 109b) goes on to discuss how the udder is torn open:

How does one tear it [the udder] open?

Rav Yehudah says, “He tears it vertically and horizontally and presses it against the wall.” Rabbi Elazar said to his servant, “Tear for me [the udder], and I shall eat it.”

The editor of the sugya infers from Rabbi Elazar's command to his servant that he believes it is enough to tear open the udder in one direction and there is no need to press it against the wall.

It is in the context of Rav Yehudah's ruling that our story appears:

Reading the story as a whole, one is immediately struck by the narrator's anti-Suran tone. The poor rabbinic scholar from Pumbedita is being neglected by the people of Sura—not only do they refrain from inviting him to dine on Erev Yom Kippur,Footnote 4 but they leave him to dig in the garbage, and he is forced to eat his se‘udah mafseket (pre-fast meal) outside the city. Adding insult to injury, they put him on trial, and he barely escapes lashing by displaying his sound legal reasoning, which puts Rav Ḥisda, Sura's greatest sage, to shame.Footnote 5 The setting of the story on Erev Yom Kippur—a day that is supposed to be dedicated to reconciliation with those wronged—serves as a further indictment of the community in Sura.Footnote 6 Sura is a place concerned with the rule of law, but the people of Sura ignore the pain and poverty of a fellow Jew.Footnote 7

The four-part story is introduced and is to a large extent inspired by an amoraic tradition that in Sura they did not eat the udder, while in Pumbedita they did. Following the statement of this tradition is the introduction of the Pumbeditan sage Rami bar Tamarei or Dikulei, a man with two names, who is said to have arrived in Sura on the eve of Yom Kippur. Rami violates Suran custom by collecting and eating the discarded udders. The next two sections of the story (parts 2 and 3) go on to describe how Rami bar Dikulei was arrested and questioned about his violation of Suran practice and subsequently challenged about his personal observance of the commandments. Rami is brought to the beit din of Rav Ḥisda, where he is tied up.Footnote 8 The first part of the questioning (part 2) can be divided into three parts (marked A–C). First, Rav Ḥisda challenges Rami by quoting M. Pesaḥim 4:1: “A person who travels from a place of legal leniency to a place of legal stringency is obligated to accept the stringencies of the place [where] he has arrived”—in this case the stringencies of Sura. Rami answers Rav Ḥisda that he ate the udders outside the city limits. Rav Ḥisda then challenges Rami on the method he used to fuel the fire for roasting the udders (2B). Rami answers that he used grape pits—פורצני—a rather unusual word in rabbinic literature.Footnote 9 Rav Ḥisda objects on the basis of the laws of idolatrous wine. Rami answers that the grape pits were over twelve months old and therefore free from any connection to idolatrous wine. Rav Ḥisda then challenges Rami by arguing that perhaps the grape pits belonged to someone and therefore were stolen property. Rami answers that the owners surely had abandoned their rights to the pits since sprouts were growing on them.

Failing to convict Rami in his first line of questioning, Rav Ḥisda moves on to attack Rami's personal performance of the commandments (part 3). First he asks him why he is not wearing tefillin.Footnote 10 Rami responds with the words of his teacher, Rav Yehudah: “One who suffers from a stomach ailment is exempt from wearing tefillin.” This humorous answer is surely intentional on the part of the storyteller—after collecting food from the garbage and roasting it with sprout-ridden grape pits, no wonder he is having some digestive issues! Rav Ḥisda then attacks Rami for not wearing tzitzit. Rami again responds by quoting his teacher, Rav Yehudah, who states that a borrowed garment is exempt from tzitzit for thirty days.

After failing to find any reason to administer lashes to the poor Pumbeditan disciple of Rav Yehudah, the story moves into its final section (part 4). A new prisoner is broughtFootnote 11 to the beit din of Rav Ḥisda who is accused of not fulfilling the commandment of honoring his parents. Rami demands that they free the prisoner, quoting a tannaitic source according to which an earthly beit din has no authority to punish a person for not honoring his or her parents. The story closes with Rav Ḥisda praising Rami for his legal acumen and Rami answering him that it is nothing compared to that of his teacher, Rav Yehudah. Interestingly the praise for Rami and his teacher is couched in the language of “place” (atra). When he is first attacked, Rami defends himself by saying that he comes from the place (atra) of Rav Yehudah, and in the end Rami claims that if Rav Ḥisda would come to the place of Rav Yehudah he would see pure brilliance. This emphasis on place by our storyteller shows his agenda—he seeks to show the superiority of Pumbedita over Sura.

An approximate date for this narrative can be proposed on the basis of the numerous legal sources that lie behind its formulation, beginning with the legal source that is the point of departure for the story: “In Sura the udder was forbidden for consumption; in Pumbedita it was permitted.” The formulation here is similar to a number of traditions in the Bavli that contrast Pumbeditan halakhah with that of Sura.Footnote 12 Moreover, in quite a few sugyot in the Bavli we find divergent traditions of Sura and Pumbedita taught with the terminology “In Sura they teach thus, and in Pumbedita they teach thus.”Footnote 13 The fact that references to this style of teaching are found in other anonymous amoraic sources implies that this tradition stems from the later generations of the Amoraim when the two centers of learning were well established. It makes less sense that this tradition was in existence at the time of Rav Yehudah and Rav Ḥisda, since at that time the two centers of learning were in their early stages of development. Even according to Isaiah Gafni, who argues for the existence of the yeshiva in amoraic times in Babylonia,Footnote 14 Sura and Pumbedita could hardly be considered “centers” at this time—and it would have made little sense for someone to contrast their divergent customs and teachings.Footnote 15 Indeed it would seem that part of our storyteller's agenda is to denigrate the background, knowledge, and observance of the people of Sura. Just before our story, in the same passage (B. Ḥullin 110a), there is a story about the Amora Rav. Arriving in Tatlafush (which seems to be close to Sura), he “found an open space and erected a [metaphorical] fence around it” and then witnessed a woman asking her neighbor, “How much milk is required to cook a riba of meat?” Concerned about the halakhic observance of such ignorant persons Rav declared the udder forbidden for consumption in the area of Sura. This story of Rav in Tatlafush suggests that the stringent custom of Sura, of which its people are so proud in our story, is actually overcompensation for ignorance.

Our storyteller clearly had a low opinion of this Suran custom and set out to show Pumbedita's superiority in legal reasoning. To do so, he used literary legal sources from other parts of the Bavli, which will be delineated below. Determining the relationship between these legal sources and our narrative, establishes a terminus post quem no earlier than the fifth generation of the Amoraim and closer to the time of the sugya's editor. As argued above, the backbone of the story comes from the amoraic tradition about the divergent customs of Sura and Pumbedita. The author wanted to create a narrative in which a Pumbeditan sage violated Suran law and then defended himself brilliantly. The first question to tackle is why the author chose the figures Rami bar Dikulei, Rav Ḥisda, and Rav Yehudah. The answer can be found in two literary sources.Footnote 16 First, B. Sanhedrin 17b contains a developed list of the dominant sages of the various rabbinic centers, for example, “Our teachers in Babylonia—Rav and Shmuel; our teachers in the Land of Israel—Rabbi Abba.” The text then reads:

The elders of Sura—Rav Huna and Rav Ḥisda; the elders of Pumbedita— Rav Yehudah and Rav Eina; the brilliant ones of Pumbedita—Eifa and Avimi, the sons of Rahava. (emphasis mine)

Note that the parallel structure used to speak of “our teachers” and of “the elders” does not repeat itself with regard to the brilliant sages (harifei), who are mentioned only with regard to Pumbedita and not Sura.Footnote 17 Our storyteller most likely was influenced by this source in choosing to concentrate on Rav Ḥisda and Rav Yehudah, the leaders of Sura and Pumbedita respectively, mentioned side by side in this list.Footnote 18 An additional reason for choosing Rav Yehudah is that, as mentioned above, he is the same sage who gives detailed instructions for preparing the udder for consumption in the same sugya in Bavli Ḥullin, ruling that it should be torn vertically and horizontally and pressed against the wall. However, instead of describing a direct conflict between Rav Ḥisda and Rav Yehudah, the storyteller chooses to strengthen the argument for Pumbeditan dominance by having an obscure Pumbeditan student represent his teacher. The sage “Rami bar Tamarei also known as Rami bar Dikulei” with both names given,Footnote 19 appears in only one other source in the Bavli—an instructive story in B. Menaḥot 29b:

Rami bar Tamarei, also known as Rami bar Dikulei,Footnote 20 [found that] the vav in the word va-yaharog Footnote 21 was perforated. He came to Rabbi Zeira, who said, “Go, bring a child that is neither too clever nor too foolish; if he reads the vav of va-yaharog, it is valid; otherwise the word is yaharog, and it is invalid.”

In this short halakhic story the figure who queries Rabbi Zeira is so obscure that we are uncertain of the name of his father—it could be Tamarei or it could be Dikulei—with both names obviously coming from the realm of the date and palm trade. Moreover, it is safe to assume that Rami is imagined as being poor since he cannot even afford a parchment for his tefillin that does not have a hole in it! Therefore, the figure of Rami served the purposes of our storyteller for three reasons: first, he is connected to Rabbi Zeira, who is widely known as a talmid muvhak (close disciple) of Rav Yehudah, establishing Pumbeditan location; second, he is pictured as a poor sage (who would have to use a parchment with a hole in it for his tefillin, if validated by the child); and third, he is so obscure that he is given two names.Footnote 22

Having chosen the main characters, our storyteller used three additional halakhic sources to create the first part of the confrontation between Rav Ḥisda and Rami. He borrows the legal arguments in these sources and casts them as direct dialogue between Rav Ḥisda and Rami.Footnote 23 The first part of the dispute (part 2A) is modeled on B. Ḥullin 18b:

When Rabbi Zeira went up to the Land of Israel, he ate there mugremet Footnote 24 [forbidden] by Rav and Shmuel. They said to him, “Are you not from the place of Rav and Shmuel?” He replied, “Who said it [i.e., that in fact this halakhah was taught in the name of Rav and Shmuel]? It was Yosef bar Ḥiyya, and Yosef bar Ḥiyya takes traditions from anyone. Rav Yosef [bar Ḥiyya] heard and was angry. He said, “I take traditions from anyone? I take traditions from Rav Yehudah, who is careful even to register doubtful attributions….

But does not Rabbi Zeira accept the rule that we impose upon him the stringencies of the place that he came from and the stringencies of the place that he has arrived at? Abaye said.…

In this sugya Rabbi Zeira, the very same student of Rav Yehudah whom Rami consulted with regard to his tefillin in B. Menaḥot 29b, arrives in the Land of Israel and eats meat that was slaughtered in a manner called mugremet, which Babylonian halakhah deemed inappropriate.Footnote 25 Despite the fact that the meat was considered permissible by the locals, they criticize Rabbi Zeira for violating his home ruling and ask: “Aren't you from the place (אתריה) of Rav and Shmuel?” Rabbi Zeira defends himself by arguing that Rav and Shmuel never taught the mugremet tradition, and that the person responsible for the mistaken attribution was Rav Yosef bar Ḥiyya. Angry, Rav Yosef defends himself by saying that he learned the mugremet tradition from Rav Yehudah himself, who is known for his exactitude in reporting all versions of disputed attributions.Footnote 26 This emphasis on Rav Yehudah's exactitude is illustrated in Rami's “double name”—it is as if Rami's very name exemplifies the type of attribution that is said to be a characteristic of Rav Yehudah. Rabbi Zeira's behavior is then challenged from M. Pesaḥim 4:1 and that challenge is subsequently dismissed by Abaye and Rav Ashi.

Comparing B. Ḥullin 18b and our story in B. Ḥullin 110a, we see a striking number of common elements:

  1. 1. Both texts concern a stringency of not eating a certain kind of meat.

  2. 2. In both stories a rabbi with a connection to Rav Yehudah violates custom—Rabbi Zeira violates Babylonian custom in the Land of Israel, and Rami violates Suran custom in Sura.

  3. 3. Each of the protagonists is challenged on the basis of the same Mishnah in Pesaḥim.

  4. 4. Both sources use the term אתרא ד…, “the place of,” in similar ways.

  5. 5. The words רב יהודה and אנא are used together in both: in B. Ḥullin 18b Rav Yosef defends himself with the words אנא מרב יהודה גמירנא (I learned it from Rav Yehudah!) and likewise Rami defends himself initially from the attack of Rav Ḥisda, saying, מאתרא דרב יהודה אנא דאכיל (I am from the place of Rav Yehudah where it is eaten).

All of this makes clear that one story is dependent on the other, and analysis suggests that it was our storyteller, with his unique description of a divergence between Sura and Pumbedita regarding the halakhic status of udders, who used the tradition about Rabbi Zeira to form the first part of his attack, adapting it into direct dialogue between Rami and Rav Ḥisda. It is less reasonable to argue that the story in B. Ḥullin 18b—a brief description of a well-known divergence between the Babylonian halakhah and that of the Land of Israel, which has its own antecedents and authentic amoraic parallels—is based upon our story.Footnote 27

In the second part of his attack (part 2), Rav Ḥisda asks Rami how he roasted the udders and tries to entrap Rami on a charge of illegal use of gentile grape products. This line of questioning is based on a sugya in B. Avodah Zarah 34a–b:Footnote 28

Grape pits and [grape] skins of gentiles are forbidden.Footnote 29 Which are considered moist and which are considered dry? Rav Yehudah said in the name of Shmuel: they are considered moist during the first twelve months, and they are dry after twelve months […] Rav Zevid said that dregs of wine (דורדאי דחמרא) of Arameans are permitted after twelve months. Rav Aḥa the son of Rava said grape pits (פורצני) of Arameans are permitted after a twelve-month period. (emphasis mine)

In this sugya Rav Yehudah defines in the name of Shmuel the difference between wet grape pits and skins, which are forbidden and given the status of idolatrous wine, and dry pits and skins, which are permissible even to eat. According to Rav Yehudah permissibility is defined by time—the kind of grape products that are dry, and thus permitted for use, are those that are twelve months old or more. Rav Yehudah's opinion is confirmed by two amoraic statements in Aramaic. The second of these statements is attributed in the manuscripts to Rav Aḥa the son of Rava,Footnote 30 a contemporary of Rav Ashi,Footnote 31 and reads: “הני פורצני דארמאי בתר תריסר ירחי שתא שרו” (those grape pits of the Arameans are permissible after twelve months). Clearly our storyteller used the material in this sugya in B. Avodah Zarah to create the dialogue between Rav Ḥisda and Rami. Rav Ḥisda asks what Rami used to roast the udders, and Rami answers directly from the statement of Rav Aḥa the son of Rava, “פורצני.” Rav Ḥisda then asks how he knows they were not from grapes used to make gentile wine, and Rami answers, mostly in Hebrew, “לאחר שנים עשר חדש הוו.” It is interesting to note that the storyteller could have used the pure Aramaic sentence of Rav Aḥa, “בתר תריסר ירחי שתא הוו,” but instead prefers the Hebrew words of Rav Yehudah mentioned earlier in the sugya. This is an intentional move on the part of the storyteller—he seeks to demonstrate the extent to which Rami is imbued with the wisdom of his teacher Rav Yehudah! The fact that the פורצני pits were mentioned only by the sixth-generation sage Rav Aḥa clearly demonstrates that our storyteller used the edited sugya that had both the words of Rav Yehudah and the words of Rav Aḥa.Footnote 32 This means that the earliest possible date for our story would be at the end of the amoraic period.

The third part of Rav Ḥisda's attack (part 2C) is drawn from a sugya in B. Bava Meẓia’ 23b. It is the only one of the three sugyot used in this section by the storyteller that has no direct reference to Rav Yehudah:Footnote 33

A certain man found pitch at the winepress. He came in front of Rav [to ask if he could take it for himself]. Rav said to him, “Go and take it for yourself.” Rav saw that the man was hesitating. He said to him, “Go and split it with my son Ḥiyya.”

Does this imply that Rav believes that place is not a sign [to be used for return of lost items]?

Rabbi Abba said, “[Rav's ruling] is because of the abandonment of ownership, for he saw that sprouts were growing on it.”

This sugya tells the story of a person who found pitch in a winepress. Rav rules that the pitch belongs to the finder and tells him to split his find with Rav's son Ḥiyya—to reassure the man that he has rights to the pitch. The editor of the sugya then suggests that according to Rav location is not a telltale sign of ownership; because the pitch was found at a clear location, the winepress, it could have been used to determine the validity of the claim on the lost item, but Rav chose not to do so. This position is rejected by an amoraic statement, attributed in most of the textual witnesses to Rabbi AbbaFootnote 34 and in others to Rabbah or Rava;Footnote 35 it reads: “משום יאוש בעלים נגעו בה דחזא דקדחי ביה חילפי” ([Rav's ruling is] because of the abandonment of ownership since he saw that sproutsFootnote 36 were growing on it). We should notice here that the statement is composed of a Hebrew kernel, משום יאוש בעלים נגעו בה, accompanied by an Aramaic explanatory gloss, דחזא דקדחי ביה חילפי. The editorial history of this statement is complicated by the fact that the words משום יאוש בעלים נגעו בה“” appear three times in the Bavli: here in B. Bava Meẓia’ 23b, in B. Bava Batra 87b, and in B. Mo‘ed Katan 5b. The question arises: in which context did this amoraic statement originate?

After analysis of the parallel sugyot, it is clear that the original context of the statement regarding יאוש בעלים (abandonment of ownership) in the Bavli is B. Bava Batra 87b and from there it was transferred to the two other sugyot.Footnote 37 Not only does the theme of abandonment of ownership fit best in B. Bava Batra 87b, but an almost identical amoraic statement about abandonment of ownership regarding the same tannaitic sources appears in a parallel sugya in Y. Terumah:

The two discussions are almost identical:

  1. 1. Both sugyot raise a difficulty between the contradictory rulings in M. Bava Batra 5:8 and M. Terumah 11:8 regarding the remainder of a liquid poured out of a measuring vessel.

  2. 2. In both sugyot the ruling cited in M. Bava Batra awarding the leftover liquid to the seller is explained on the basis of יאוש (abandonment) on the part of the buyer.Footnote 42

  3. 3. In both sugyot the sage who offers the explanation is a Rabbi Yiẓḥak.Footnote 43 The existence of a Yerushalmi parallel to the B. Bava Batra 87b passage with a clear relationship to that passage demonstrates that the statement attributed to Rabbi Yiẓḥak in the Yerushalmi and to Rabbi Abahu in the Bavli is original in this context, and not in B. Bava Meẓia’ 23a and B. Mo‘ed Katan 5b. Thus in B. Bava Meẓia’ 23a the statement is secondary and was transferred at a much later stage.Footnote 44 In fact, the transfer was probably done in two stages. In the first stage the statement of Rabbi Abahu was transferred; in the second, an Aramaic gloss was added to explain how Rav knew there was abandonment of ownership.

Given the source of the statement in B. Bava Batra and the nature of the quotation in B. Bava Meẓia’, we can conclude that our storyteller used the final edited sugya of Bava Meẓia’ to form this part of his story. It is only in that final edited format that the Hebrew statement “משום יאוש בעלים נגעו בה” is accompanied by an Aramaic explanatory gloss “דחזא דקדחי ביה חילפי.” That gloss belongs to the editor of the sugya in B. Bava Meẓia’, who either transferred the simple Hebrew statement from B. Bava Batra 87b and added the gloss or augmented the simple Hebrew statement that was already there (from the transfer of an earlier editor) with an Aramaic gloss explaining how Rav knew the pitch to be abandoned. Our storyteller used the finished product of B. Bava Meẓia’ 23b, which contained both the Hebrew statement and the Aramaic gloss. This means that the terminus post quem for our story is even later than the fifth generation of Amoraim, probably after the Bava Meẓia’ sugya achieved final redaction.

After failing to convict Rami on the illicit consumption of udders, Rav Ḥisda moves on to attack Rami's level of personal observance, suddenly noticing his lack of tzitzit and tefillin. Rami responds to each attack by quoting a statement of his teacher, Rav Yehudah:Footnote 45 first, “one who suffers from a stomach ailment is exempt from wearing tefillin” and then, “a borrowed garment for the first thirty days is exempt from the tzitzit.” Given the storyteller's propensity for drawing his material from edited sugyot, we would expect to find both of these statements in other passages in the Bavli. However, only the second statement concerning tzitzit is found in the Bavli—in B. Menaḥot 44a and B. Ḥullin 135a. Rav Yehudah's statement is original in B. Menaḥot 44a, where it appears at the end of the main talmudic discussion of the laws of tzitzit, the most logical context for that statement.Footnote 46 Moreover in B. Ḥullin 135a the statement is introduced with the term “לכדאמר רב יהודה” (like that which was said), implying that its source is elsewhere.Footnote 47

From where then did the storyteller draw the first statement of Rav Yehudah, about tefillin? One possibility is that the statement represents an authentic tradition of Rav Yehudah that has not reached us through any other channel. A statement similar to that of Rav Yehudah does appear in the Bavli. In both B. Shabbat 49a and B. Shabbat 130a there is a statement of Rabbi Yannai that tefillin require a “גוף נקי,” literally a “clean body,” which is interpreted by Babylonian Amoraim to refer to physical cleanliness. It could be that Rav Yehudah's statement was taught in that context as well but did not survive in the final edited form of those sugyot. Another possibility, which is more likely, is that the storyteller created Rav Yehudah's statement on tefillin on the basis of his authentic statement regarding tzitzit. Given that our storyteller chose to focus on the figure of Rami bar Dikulei, in part on the basis of the passage in B. Menaḥot 29b where Rami queries Rabbi Zeira about the perforated vav of his tefillin, it is likely that this same storyteller created the statement regarding stomach ailments and tefillin and attributed it to Rami. The B. Menaḥot source implies that Rami was poor and had to use a text with a hole in it instead of buying a new one; in it the themes of poverty and tefillin merge: the fact that poor people would often suffer from digestive illnesses due to poor nutrition can thus account in our story for Rami's lack of tefillin due to a stomach ailment. Given Rami's poverty and given that the storyteller had an authentic statement of Rav Yehudah about tzitzit, he decided to cast Rami as appearing before Rav Ḥisda for judgment without any symbols of Jewish identity. The doubling of Rav Ḥisda's attack, citing Rami's lack of both tefillin and tzitzit, serves to emphasize and demonstrate the problematic nature of the community of Sura. They are consumed with symbols and how things look on the outside, seeking to institute a rule of law without internalizing the real meaning of the commandments. Therefore on Erev Yom Kippur they are concerned about a person collecting udders from the garbage—because udders cannot be eaten; however, they ignore the fact that the person's extreme poverty, combined with their own lack of hospitality, has forced him to collect food from the garbage on Erev Yom Kippur. Rami's lack of tzitzit and tefillin identify him as suspicious in Sura, and the Surans are not able to imagine what is going on inside Rami—i.e., that he has a stomach ailment and is so poor that he has to wear borrowed clothing. The storyteller creates a statement about tefillin based on the Babylonian amoraic concern with bodily cleanliness when donning tefillin, which mirrors Rav Yehudah's authentic statement regarding borrowed tzitzit.Footnote 48

The story closes with further criticism of the rule of law in Sura. When a person suspected of not honoring his parents is bound and brought into the beit din of Rav Ḥisda, Rami demands that Rav Ḥisda release the prisoner, based on a Baraita’ that states: “Every positive commandment that has its reward [mentioned] together with it does not fall within the jurisdiction of the human court.” This tannaitic source appears nowhere else in the Bavli,Footnote 49 and refers to the pentateuchal connection between the commandment of honoring one's parents and longevity: “Honor your father and your mother, that you may long endure on the land” (Exodus 20:12; Deuteronomy 5:16).Footnote 50 The source of this Baraita’ is likely the Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael:Footnote 51

“Honor your father and your mother”—if you have honored them [then] “you may long endure,” and if not then “your days will be shortened” […] “on the land [that the Lord your God is assigning to you].” Hence they said,Footnote 52 “Every commandment that has its reward [mentioned] together with it does not fall within the jurisdiction of the human court.”

The Baraita’ in our story is identical almost word for word with the quotation in the Mekhilta,Footnote 53 and Rami's quotation of the Baraita’ in the context of a person who has failed to fulfill the commandment of honoring his parents demonstrates that it was from this context that the storyteller had knowledge of the Baraita’.Footnote 54 Moreover, given that our storyteller drew his sources from edited works, this may indicate that the editor of our story was familiar with the redacted Mekhilta itself. On the other hand, it is also possible that our storyteller received this source through a separate chain of tradition. A Baraita’ very similar to the one cited by Rami is quoted in the context of the commandment to use fair measuresFootnote 55 in Y. Bava Batra 5:9 (15a):

It is written: “You shall have an honest balance, honest weights” (Leviticus 19:36). Hence the sages said, “Every commandment that has its reward written together with it does not fall within the jurisdiction of the human court. […]” Rabbi Bon the son of Ḥiyya taught the Baraita’ (matnita) thus: “Every commandment that has its reward written together with it, [the perpetrator] cannot be punished by the human court.”

In this sugya two versions of the Baraita’ are taught in connection with the commandment to use fair measures. According to the first, the human court does not have jurisdiction: “אין בית דין מוזהרין עליה,” while according to the version quoted by Rabbi Bon the son of Ḥiyya, the human court cannot punish the perpetrator: “אין בית דין עונשין עליה.” The first version seems to be the original version that was known in the Land of Israel, and this is matched by the quotation in the Mekhilta and in our story. The quotation of the Baraita’ in Y. Bava Batra shows that it was transmitted in the rabbinic academies and could have been known by our storyteller as well.

The story closes with Rav Ḥisda recognizing the brilliance of Rami bar Dikulei: “I see that you are very sharp!”Footnote 56 Rami replies that “if only you [=Rav Ḥisda] would come to Rav Yehudah's school, I would show you true brilliance!” Footnote 57 As argued above, the storyteller drew the theme of sharpness/brilliance from B. Sanhedrin 17b and its juxtaposition of Rav Yehudah and Rav Ḥisda as the sages of Sura and Pumbedita with the “brilliant ones of Pumbedita.” However, sharpness can also be seen as a negative attribute. In B. Bava Meẓia’ 38b Rav Sheshet accuses the Pumbeditan sage Rav Amram of using a forced argument in his interpretation of a Baraita’, saying, “Perhaps you are from Pumbedita where they put an elephant in the eye of a needle!” Rav Ḥisda could certainly share Rav Sheshet's appraisal of the Pumbeditan sage Rami bar Dikulei. However, even if Rav Ḥisda's description of Rami as sharp or brilliant is sarcastic, the overall tone of the end of the story implies a resounding victory for Rami. He is given the last word, and his invitation to Rav Ḥisda to come to Pumbedita demonstrates the storyteller's perspective that the smallest student of Rav Yehudah has succeeded in defeating the greatest sage of Sura.

In conclusion, we have seen, through careful analysis of the parallel sources, how the author of our story used “halakhic kernels” found in redacted halakhic texts to create the dialogue between Rav Ḥisda and Rami bar Dikulei in our story, thus demonstrating that halakhic sources can be of great value in dating talmudic narratives and reconstructing their mode of composition. According to the foregoing analysis, this narrative is most likely a post-amoraic creation that makes use of the figures of Rav Ḥisda and Rami bar Dikulei. Obviously, our argument should caution against attempts to use these narratives to reconstruct the historical reality of Sura or Pumbedita at the beginning of the third century, when Rav Ḥisda flourished. It is clear that the narrative can be dated no earlier than the end of the fourth century and represents the work of a creative late-Babylonian storyteller.

References

1. See Rubenstein, Jeffrey, Talmudic Stories: Narrative Art, Composition, and Culture (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999), 3–33CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Rubenstein, The Culture of the Babylonian Talmud (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2003), 2–13Google Scholar; and, most recently, Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2010), 7–19Google Scholar. Richard Kalmin has registered a different opinion, arguing: “The anonymous editors of the Talmud are very unlikely candidates for authorship of the Talmud's brilliantly artistic, dramatically gripping, and ethically and theologically ambiguous narratives” (Katz, Steven T., ed., The Cambridge History of Judaism [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006], 4:846CrossRefGoogle Scholar). The most recent assessment of Rubenstein's contribution can be found in Isaiah Gafni's review of his three books on rabbinic stories: “Rethinking Talmudic History: The Challenge of Literary and Redaction Criticism,” Jewish History 25, nos. 3–4 (2011): 355–75CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

2. See Friedman, Shamma, “La'aggadah ha-historit ba-talmud ha-bavli,” in Saul Lieberman Memorial Volume, ed. Friedman, Shamma, New York and Jerusalem: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1993), 119–64Google Scholar. According to Friedman, only the material identified as the “literary kernel” of the story can be used to reconstruct historical data. More importantly, that identification can be used to dismiss elements in the story that are not part of the literary kernel and are therefore secondary and clearly nonhistorical (122). See further Friedman's article “A Good Story Deserves Retelling—The Unfolding of the Akiva Legend,” Jewish Studies Internet Journal 3 (2004): 87 n. 102Google Scholar.

3. Even when a Palestinian parallel is found, we do not always have clear criteria for dating the story—we can only surmise that the Palestinian source has some relationship to it, and usually the Palestinian source is thought to represent the earlier form of the tradition, making it easier to see which elements were added later. On the tendency in scholarship to regard the Palestinian story as original, see Efron, Joshua, Studies in the Hasmonean Period (Leiden: Brill, 1987), 145–47CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Friedman, “Historical Aggadah,” 121 n. 6; Rubenstein, Talmudic Stories, 25–26; Hezser, Catherine, Form, Function, and Historical Significance of the Rabbinic Story in Yerushalmi Neziqin, Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum 37 (Tübingen: Mohr, 1993), 349–57Google Scholar. However, this is not always the case; see Benovitz, Moshe, Perek shevuot shetaim batra, Bavli Shevuot perek shelishi (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 2003), 456–61Google Scholar.

4. This motif is reminiscent of the story of Polemo (in B. Kiddushin 81a–b), who was shamed into inviting Satan to dine on Erev Yom Kippur. While there is no evidence of a direct relationship between the stories, that story makes clear to the contemporary reader just how objectionable a lack of hospitality on Erev Yom Kippur was considered to be. While one could argue that the story contains no internal proof concerning the behavior of “the people” of Sura, the fact that it contrasts “everyone [in the city],” who are careful to throw the udders away, with Rami, who “immediately went and collected them and ate them,” is surely meant to reflect poorly on the people of the city. The collective (כולי עלמא) of Sura is scrupulous about getting rid of the udders but not about the commandment of receiving guests, even on the eve of Yom Kippur.

5. See Kalmin, Richard, “Talmudic Portrayals of Relationships between Rabbis: Amoraic or Pseudepigraphic?” AJS Review 17 (1992): 165–97CrossRefGoogle Scholar. Kalmin theorized that this story “in which a student of Yehudah, Rami bar Tamari, demonstrates Ḥisda's inferiority to Yehudah, might be an effective means by which late Pumbeditan storytellers propagandize in favor of their city and attack contemporary Suran foes” (172–73).

6. See M. Yoma 8:9; Sifra Aḥarei Mot 5:8 (ed. Weiss, p. 83a–b); B. Yoma 87a–b; and B. Eruvin 54a (similar to B. Nedarim 55a). B. Yoma 87a describes how Rav went to appease a butcher on Erev Yom Kippur, and how the butcher's refusal to forgive Rav resulted in the butcher's premature death.

7. In his recent book, Socrates and the Fat Rabbis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009)Google Scholar, Daniel Boyarin argues for the influence of what he terms “Menippean satire” on the Bavli. Boyarin defines Menippean satire as “a kind of spoofing in which the heroes of an intellectual community are the spoofed heroes, at least in formal part via a yoking together of the serious and comical genres into single texts that observe no generic decorum, as was recognized already in antiquity. Since the force of this genre is to call into question the very seriousness and authority of the practice of the intellectuals themselves, this is also, I argue, an important avenue for understanding talmudic ideology” (26). Boyarin does not mention our story as an example of “Menippean satire”; however, using his model, one might be tempted to argue that Rav Ḥisda is comically “spoofed” by the udder-eating Rami bar Tamari. While I agree that Rav Ḥisda is indeed “spoofed,” I do not think it has anything to do with Menippean satire. It is more along the traditional lines of satire defined by Boyarin in the same context as “that which makes fun of a literary tradition or sociocultural formation.” In this case the author from Pumbedita criticizes the leaders of Sura (see below). For a detailed critique of Boyarin's thesis, see Kiperwasser, Reuven, “Daniel Boyarin: Socrates and the Fat Rabbis,” Jewish History 25, nos. 3–4 (2011): 377–97CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

8. This is in accordance with MSS Hamburg 169, Vatican 121, Vatican 122, and Munich 95. In the printed editions the word kaftei/kaftuhu does not appear. This was likely an apologetic deletion based on sensitivity to the criticism of Rav Ḥisda in our story.

9. The word appears in three sugyot in the Bavli: Berakhot 38a, Pesaḥim 42b, and Avodah Zarah 34b. See Sokoloff, Michael, A Dictionary of Jewish Babylonian Aramaic (Ramat Gan and Baltimore: Bar-Ilan University Press and Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002), 893Google Scholar, who defines it as: “stone or kernel of fruit (esp. grapes […]).” In Syriac פרצנתא is defined by Smith, J. Payne as “a grape-stone, pomegranate seed; a raisin” (A Compendious Syriac Dictionary [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1903], 464)Google Scholar. For a discussion of the meaning of the word, see Moshe Benovitz, Talmud ha-’Igud, Berakhot VI, Sugya 16, n. 14 [forthcoming].

10. In MSS Hamburg 169 and Vatican 121 the order is switched; Rav Ḥisda first queries Rami about his lack of tzitzit, then about his lack of tefillin. For a discussion of this change in order, see below.

11. Here we have another hint about the collective of Sura. They—the people of Sura—bring in (אייתוה) another prisoner and thereby show their partnership and agreement with Rav Ḥisda in the search for additional “transgressors.”

12. See B. Pesaḥim 117b and B. Ketubot 55a (in the latter source the distinction is between Pumbedita and Mata Meḥasya, which bordered Sura). For a brief discussion of the talmudic evidence of divergent customs in Sura and Pumbedita and a wider discussion of the differences in customs between the two centers in the geonic period, see Asaf, Simḥah, Tekufat ha-ge'onim ve-sifrutah (Jerusalem, Mosad Harav Kook, 1967), 261–78Google Scholar; Victor Aptowitzer, Sefer ha-Ra'aviah vol. 3, Hosafot ve'Tikunim (Jerusalem, Harry Fischel Institute, 1964), 743Google Scholar. Contrast Robert Brody's critique of Asaf's conclusions, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1998), 149Google Scholar.

13. See, e.g., B. Megillah 18b, B. Bava Batra 142b, B. Bava Batra 152b, B. Avodah Zarah 38a, B. Avodah Zarah 75a, B. Ḥullin 37b, and B. Bekhorot 36b.

14. See Gafni, Isaiah, “Yeshivah u-metivta,” Zion 43 (1978): 12–37Google Scholar. In Gafni's discussion of the pirka (a public discourse combining the study of halakhah and aggadah) he demonstrates that the term is used by third-generation Amoraim and onward (Yehudei Bavel be-tekufat ha-Talmud [Jerusalem: Zalman Shazar Center for Jewish History, 1990], 210–11Google Scholar).

15. This is certainly the case for David Goodblatt (Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian Babylonia [Leiden: Brill, 1975]Google Scholar), who sees the academies as the product of the geonic period. For a discussion of their theories, see Rubenstein, Jeffrey, “The Rise of the Babylonian Rabbinic Academy: A Reexamination of the Talmudic Evidence,” Jewish Studies Internet Journal 1 (2002): 55–68Google Scholar.

16. I use the term “literary sources” to mean redacted sources (either in oral or written form) that were at the disposal of our storyteller at the time of the story's creation. As we shall see below, the storyteller copied and molded redacted sources in order to create this story.

17. Two traditions are attributed in the Bavli to the brilliant ones of Pumbedita: B. Kiddushin 39a and B. Menaḥot 17a. In B. Berakhot 59b the sages of Meḥoza are described as being “sharp” due to their consumption of the water of the Tigris River.

18. Moreover, in the next line of B. Sanhedrin 17b the term ḥarifei (brilliant ones) appears again. The idea of brilliance is central to our story. One might ask: if this is so, why did the author of our story not use one of the “brilliant ones,” Eifa or Avimi, as the central character in the story in place of Rami? The answer to this question is clear: by using the little-known Rami, our storyteller demonstrates how even the most insignificant student of Rav Yehudah was imbued with his Torah and could defeat the greatest sage of Sura.

19. In B. Yevamot 80a there is a statement attributed to “Rami bar Dikulei in the name of Shmuel.” None of the textual witnesses in B. Yevamot 80a add the name Rami bar Tamarei. Nonetheless, it is likely that this refers to the same sage and that the uncertainty (second tradition) regarding his name was added to the amoraic tradition in B. Menaḥot 29b to emphasize his anonymity and poverty. In the printed editions of B. Berakhot 56a, Bar Hadaya, who interpreted dreams based on how much he was paid, interpreted Abaye and Rava's identical dream (they saw “a wine cask in a dikla [palm tree]”) in opposite directions. Bar Hadaya told Abaye: “your business shall flourish like the dikla [palm tree],” while he told Rava that “your business shall be sick/sweet like tamarei [dates].” Accordingly, dikla would symbolize a profitable business and tamarei, a failed business. However most of the manuscripts do not have the words dikla and tamarei in Bar Hadaya's interpretations: they read either “your business shall flourish” or “your business shall fail.”

20. This is the reading in MSS Munich 95, Vatican 118, and Vatican 120. In the printed editions we find the erroneous reading: “Rami bar Tamarei also known as the father-in-law (דהוא חמוה) of Rami bar Dikulei.” This is the result of a dittography.

21. The word in question is the Hebrew word for “slew” in the verse “the Lord slew every first-born in the land of Egypt” found in the second passage of the Tefillin (Exodus 13:15).

22. See below for the additional significance of the two names in connection with Rav Yehudah.

23. These correspond as follows (according to our division above): Part 2A: B. Ḥullin 18b; 2B: B. Avodah Zarah 34a–b; 2C: B. Bava Meẓia’ 23a. We will demonstrate how the author of our story molded the halakhic material of each sugya into the dialogue between Rav Ḥisda and Rami.

24. A type of deflected cut in which the trachea is not cut straight but at a slant. For the earliest mention of this term, see T. Ḥullin 1:10.

25. Although clearly Rabbi Zeira did not agree with this position. Later in the same sugya Rabbi Zeira brings a statement in the name of Rav Naḥman arguing that mugremet is in fact permissible.

26. דאפילו ספיקי דגברי גריס. This phrase is only mentioned in B. Ḥullin 18b in relation to Rav Yehudah.

27. For a discussion of the textual history of the amoraic material in B. Ḥullin 18b and its relationship to B. Pesaḥim 51a, see Amit, Aaron, Talmud ha-’igud, makom she-nahagu: Pesaḥim perek revi‘i min ha-Talmud ha-Bavli (Jerusalem: Society for the Interpretation of the Talmud, 2009), 85–91Google Scholar. Although parts of the sugya in B. Ḥullin 18b were transferred from B. Pesaḥim 51a, the discussion of Rabbi Zeira's position on the permissibility of eating mugremet that is parallel to our story is original in B. Ḥullin.

28. The translation that follows is based on MS JTS 44830 (Rab. 15).

29. In the JTS manuscript these words are clearly designated by the scribe as a piska from M. Avodah Zarah 2:4. So also in MS Paris 1337, where the same tannaitic piska is clearly designated מתני. In the printed editions, however, the tannaitic passage that opens the discussion is treated as a Baraita’ and introduced with the term תנו רבנן.

30. In MS New York JTS Rab. 15, Paris 1337, and Munich 95. The printed editions read here Rav Aḥa the son of Rav Ika (a fifth-generation Babylonian Amora).

31. See Cohen, Avinoam, Ravina ve-ḥokhmei doro: ‘iyunim be-seder ha-dorot shel Amoraim aḥaronim be-Bavel (Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2001), 220–21Google Scholar. According to Cohen, Rav Aḥa the son of Rava was younger than Rav Ashi but died before him. Albeck, Ḥanokh, Mavo la-Talmudim (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1987), 440Google Scholar, argues that in all likelihood Rav Aḥa the son of Rava and Rav Aḥa the son of Rav are the same sage. However, Cohen demonstrates in detail the problems with Albeck's thesis (Cohen, 221–32).

32. One could try to make the argument that the sugya in B. Avodah Zarah 34a–b borrowed the פורצני from our story, attributing the use of the word to Rav Aḥa the son of Rava. However this is extremely unlikely for a number of reasons:

  1. 1.

    1. Why, in a halakhic discussion with other Amoraim, would an editor deliberately attribute to Rav Aḥa the son of Rava a fictitious opinion that is based on our story? If indeed that were the case, the opinion ought to have been attributed to Rami bar Dikulei in B. Avodah Zarah!

  2. 2.

    2. The question of the status of grape pits makes abundant sense in the sugya in B. Avodah Zarah; however the use of grape pits as a fuel source for cooking udders seems quite problematic.

  3. 3.

    3. The author of our story actually combines the words of Rav Yehudah and Rav Aḥa the son of Rava in the statement he attributes to Rami, which strengthens the case for the direction of borrowing being B. Avodah Zarah to B. Ḥullin.

33. Although Rav Yehudah is mentioned immediately afterward in B. Bava Meẓia.

34. In MSS Madrid Escorial G-I-3, Hamburg 165, and Vatican 115.

35. In MS Florence 8 “Rabbah” and in MS Munich 95 “Rava.”

36. See Michael Sokoloff, Babylonian Aramaic, s.v. “חילפא,” definition no. 3, 456.

37. It is important to identify the source of the statement about יאוש because it makes a significant difference in dating our storyteller's use of the statement. If the statement in the name of Rabbi Abba in B. Bava Meẓia 23a is deemed original and authentic, our storyteller could have used this material, created by third-generation Babylonian Amoraim. However, as we shall see, the statement was in fact transferred from B. Bava Batra 87a–b and then augmented with an Aramaic gloss by the editor of the sugya in B. Bava Meẓia’. The statement is also clearly secondary in B. Mo‘ed Katan 5b, where it is used to refer metaphorically to the abandonment of family “ownership” of body parts fallen off a corpse.

38. This is a piska from M. Bava Batra 5:8. The halakhah is that a seller who uses a measuring cup to transfer oil or wine to the buyer's vessel is required to let the liquid drip three times into the buyer's vessel. This line states that once the vessel has been tilted again and more liquid drains—that liquid belongs to the seller. This contradicts a similar ruling in M. Terumah 11:8—which describes the exact same case with regard to measuring out terumah oil or wine being given to a priest and rules that the remaining liquid is considered terumah and belongs to the priest and not to the Israelite; this suggests that, according to the same logic, in M. Bava Batra the liquid should belong to the buyer and not the seller.

39. M. Bava Batra 5:8.

40. M. Terumot 11:8.

41. In MS Leiden this question comes after Rabbi Yoḥanan's statement—but it clearly belongs before it. See the Israel Academy of Sciences edition of the Talmud Yerushalmi (Jerusalem, The Academy of the Hebrew Language, 2001), 260Google Scholar.

42. In the Yerushalmi an alternative explanation is cited in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan. According to Rabbi Yoḥanan, M. Bava Batra should be emended to accord with M. Terumah 11:8. See Moscovitz, Leib, Haterminologia shel hayerushalmi: hamunaḥim ha'ikari'im, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2009), 354, example 1 and n. 378Google Scholar.

43. Note, however, that in Y. Terumah it is Rabbi Yiẓḥak the son of Elazar and in B. Bava Batra it is Rabbi Yiẓḥak the son of Avdimi, with the added difference that in B. Bava Batra Rabbi Yiẓḥak attributes the statement to Rabbi Abahu. Despite these differences, the similarity of the names is additional proof that these sugyot stem from one source.

44. See Halivni, David, introduction to Mekorot u-mesorot, masekhet Bava Batra (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2007), 127–32Google Scholar.

45. As noted above (see n. 10), there is a split in the textual witnesses regarding the order. According to the printed editions of the Bavli, as well as MS Munich 95 and MS Vatican 122, Rav Ḥisda first notes Rami's lack of tefillin then his lack of tzitzit, while in MSS Hamburg 169 and Vatican 121 the order is reversed.

46. Further support for B. Menaḥot 44a being the original location of Rav Yehudah's statement is the fact that all the textual witnesses there preserve the same internal order: “a borrowed garment is exempt from tzitzit for the first thirty days.” However, in our sugya the textual witnesses are split; the printed editions and MS Hamburg 169 read “a borrowed garment for the first thirty days is exempt from tzitzit,” while MS Vatican 121 reads like B. Menaḥot 44a, with the temporal clause at the end of the sentence. In MSS Munich 95 and Vatican 122 we find corruptions of the original reading: MS Vatican 122 reads “a borrowed garment is פסולה [disqualified] from the tzitzit for the first thirty days”; and Munich 95 reads “a borrowed garment is פטור [exempt] for thirty days.” Clearly the scribe of Munich 95 copied from a text that had the original order but accidently skipped over the middle section. Subsequently the same scribe or another scribe added the word “פטור.”

47. All the textual witnesses in B. Ḥullin 136a read like the textual witnesses in B. Menaḥot 44a, except for MS Vatican 121, which reads: “a borrowed garment for the first thirty days is exempt from tzitzit.”

48. This would also explain nicely the reversal of the order in some of the manuscripts as mentioned above (nn. 10 and 45). The original version of the story most likely opened with the authentic statement of Rav Yehudah regarding tzitzit from B. Menaḥot 44a and was followed by the statement about tefillin. Another possible explanation could be that the differing order reflects two ways that tzitzit and tefillin tend to be listed in rabbinic literature; e.g., in the Yerushalmi some lists have tzitzit before tefillin (Y. Peah 1:1 [15b]; see also Vayikra Rabba, Aḥarei Mot, par. 22, to Leviticus 17:3 [ed. Margaliot, 2:296] and others have tefillin before tzitzit (Y. Peah 1:1 [15d] = Y. Kiddushin 1:7 [61b]). In B. Kiddushin 33b–34a the textual witnesses are split on this very point; the printed editions have tzitzit before tefillin while MS Oxford 367 has tefillin before tzitzit (in MS Vatican 111 the word “tzitzit” was added in a second hand in the margin, and in MS Munich 95 tzitzit are not on the list at all).

49. Y. Bava Batra 5:9 (15a) has an almost exact parallel, which will be discussed below.

50. B. Kiddushin 39b in a Baraita’ attributed to the Tanna Rabbi Ya‘akov, addresses two commandments that promise longevity upon their fulfillment: honoring parents and sending forth the mother bird. However, there the point of the homily is not that the earthly beit din has no jurisdiction, but that these two commandments both refer to a portion in the World to Come (compare parallel source in T. Ḥullin 10:16, ed. Zuckermandel, 512).

51. Mesekhta de-ba-ḥodesh, piska 8, ed. Rabin-Horowitz, 232.

52. On the term “מכאן אמרו” in the Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, see Epstein, J. N., Mavo la'nusaḥ hamishnah, (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2000, reprint), 736–38Google Scholar; Melamed, E. Z., Pirkei mavo la'sifrut hatalmudit, (Jerusalem, Galor Press, 1973), 249–53Google Scholar. Kahana, Menaḥem, The Literature of the Sages, part 2, ed. Safrai, Shmuel, Safrai, Ze'ev, Schwartz, Joshua, Tomson, Peter (The Netherlands: Royal Van Gorcum and Fortress Press, 2006), 56Google Scholar, adopts Epstein's thesis (introduction, 733), writing: “In MekRY and SifNum (Yishmaelian) on the other hand, מיכן אמרו, ‘Hence they said,’ is not so common, and when the Mishna is cited, this is not done in its actual language but rather by way of paraphrase and abbreviation. Nor do these works contain many quotations of baraitot and of Tosefta passages introduced with ‘Hence they said.’”

53. There are two minor differences. First, the version in our story reads “every positive commandment” instead of the Mekhilta's “every commandment” and the version in our story adds “earthly” (של מטה).

54. This point is identical with the one made by Rami in our sugya, unlike the similar tradition of Rabbi Ya‘akov in B. Kiddushin 39b, which does not expressly rule out trial in an earthly court (see n. 48).

55. See Deuteronomy 25:15, where the commandment is connected with longevity: “You must have completely honest weights and completely honest measures, if you are to endure long on the soil that the Lord your God is giving you.”

56. The storyteller is surely aware of two possible understandings of “sharpness;” one positive, in the sense of brilliance, and one negative, in the sense of one who uses forced arguments. It could be that Rav Ḥisda is being sarcastic and means to say that all Rami has done is to use forced arguments. See immediately below the reference to B. Bava Meẓia’ 38b. As we mentioned above (see n. 17), the sages of Meḥoza were also described as being “sharp” in B. Berakhot 59b due to their drinking the water of the Tigris River.

57. Here the textual witnesses read “חורפאי” or “חורפיי.” Some translations understand this to mean “my sharpness/brilliance.” However, in my opinion, more likely we have a plural noun form of “חורפא.”