Avodah Zarah 27
Our Gemara on amud aleph states that in a certain sense, a woman is considered to have had a bris milah. Now obviously this can’t be taken literally. It means to say that even though anatomically she is unable to have a Jewish bris, since she is a full Jew she is treated as if she is part of the same covenant.
Ben Yehoyada, quoting the Arizal, develops this idea further. He says it is similar to the principle that women are not obligated in time-bound mitzvos but it is considered as if they fulfill them by virtue of their husbands’ performance.
I don’t believe this is literal – after all, what about a single woman, especially an orphan who has no husband or father? Rather, it is the idea that she is part of the team. The goalie gets the same trophy as the forwards.
I have always been troubled by an explanation I’ve heard since my youth regarding why women are not obligated in time-bound mitzvos: that they are really more holy and do not need those mitzvos. I am aware that answers along this line have been given by authoritative rabbis wiser than I, yet I find this answer troubling – and I imagine some women would as well. It has the feel of apologetics. Let me put it this way: If you were deprived of something that felt subjectively like a privilege – say, volunteering for a community project like building a shul or school – would it really feel good to be told, “You don’t need to help – because you’re just so much holier than us?” I don’t think that kind of statement makes anybody feel better.
This is why I was delighted to see this Ben Yehoyada and related Arizal. Their approach to the problem is different. They are not claiming that women are superior, but neither are they inferior. What they are saying – though it’s certainly an old story, and may make people of the 21st century uncomfortable – is that gender-based roles, responsibilities, and expectations exist. It is understood that women often have maternal instincts and extensive childcare obligations, and so their relationship to the numerous commandments of the Torah is different. Yet because they are part of the team, when men do what they do in their roles, women are part of the mitzvah observance and covenant. In the end, it is not a value system that fully aligns with modern secular notions, but the Torah does not have to align itself with every modern idea, so long as it offers a reasonable and healthy way to live in the world. Recognizing gender roles in a non-oppressive manner might indeed be healthy – even if it limits each gender differently.
We might think ancient society was cruel to women – and in many ways, the ancient world did not sufficiently protect individual rights – but I can’t think of anything more cruel than the modern conception that a woman should feel obligated to compete in the employment marketplace and jump back into work six weeks or three months after the most profound experience of childbirth. Ignoring the fundamental and powerful experiences that each gender goes through differently is every bit as savage as some would consider so-called primitive social norms.
Eye on the Heart
Daf 28
Our Gemara on amud beis relates an incident where the great Amora Shmuel – who was also an expert physician (Niddah 25b, Bava Metzia 107b) and astronomer (Berachos 58b) – made a tragic medical error. Based on this, he adjusted his halachic stance, which shows a dynamic and empirical relationship between experience, medicine, and halacha.
There was a certain maidservant in the house of Mar Shmuel whose eye became infected on Shabbos. She screamed in pain, but no one attended to her. Eventually, her eye popped out of its socket. The next day, Mar Shmuel went out and taught: With regard to an eye that rebelled, it is permitted to apply blue eye shadow on Shabbos… What is the reason? The tendons of the eye are dependent upon the vessels of the heart.
Shmuel determined that there is a direct connection between the eye and the heart, and modern medical science supports this. Because there are so many blood vessels in the eye, and with an optometrist’s scope it is relatively easy to examine them, strokes, diabetes, and heart disease can all be seen through the eyes. “Because changes in retinal microcirculation are independent predictors of cardiovascular events, the eye serves as a ‘display’ to the cardiovascular system and brain.” (https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11042-024-19212-wThe consequences of eye tracking on brain and heart coherence | Multimedia Tools and Applications)
It gets even more interesting. Not only do the eye and heart interface on a cardiovascular level, but also on an emotional glandular level: “Cardiac cycle effects have been found to be modulated by the emotional valence of the visual stimuli: While fearful faces were detected more easily and rated as more intense if presented at systole compared with diastole…” (Garfinkel et al., J. Neurosci. 34(19), 2014)
In plain English: When the heart is contracting (systole), it heightens perception of fear stimuli. When it is relaxing (diastole), perception is more balanced. The body’s rhythm influences emotional experience.
And of course, since the physical and spiritual worlds share a designer, the eyes and heart are spiritually linked. As Rashi (Bamidbar 15:39) quotes: “The eye sees, the heart covets, and the body commits the sin” (Midrash Tanchuma, Sh’lach 15).
All’s Well That Ends Well
Daf 29
Our Gemara on amud aleph quotes the verse that describes Rivkah as she goes to the well and encounters Eliezer. To recap, Eliezer prays for G-d to guide events, asking that the maiden who will offer him and his camels to drink be the appropriate bride for Yitzchok (Bereishis 24:15):
He had scarcely finished speaking, when Rebekah, who was born to Besuel, the son of Milcah, the wife of Avraham’s brother Nachor, came out with her jug on her shoulder.
We’ve heard this story since childhood. However, there is a remarkable feature in the narrative that often goes unnoticed: Why is the detail of the jug on her shoulder important? The verse could have simply said, “Rivkah gave Eliezer and his camels to drink.”
Malbim (ibid.) notes that this emphasizes the miraculous nature of events. She was a daughter of nobility, and it would be unusual for her to be drawing water herself. Be’er Mayim Chaim (ibid.) takes it even further, stating that Rivkah went out against her family’s wishes. They disapproved of her venturing out alone, but she felt an inner impulse to go. Otherwise, what would explain why a young woman from an aristocratic family would go fetch water and carry it herself?
This underscores a psychological theme seen in many of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs: They are not always passive and obedient. They are pulled by powerful internal forces – intuition, moral compass, spiritual drive – that put them at odds with family and community. Avraham smashes his father’s idols. Yaakov buys the firstborn rights and misleads his father to obtain the blessings. Rivkah here disobeys her parents to follow her own path.
We are a stiff-necked people (Shemos 32:9) – and sometimes that stubbornness is our spiritual strength.
