Avram has just smashed his father’s idols, and Terach sees no choice but to report his “wayward” son to the authorities for blasphemy. He is brought before King Nimrod who demands that he acknowledge the truth of polytheism. Refusal, says the king, will earn the punishment of being cast alive into a fiery furnace. Avram does not budge and is sent into the fire. Miraculously, he emerges some time later completely unscathed, without so much as the singing of his clothes.
His brother Haran has been watching this incredible spectacle and he is convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt. And so, in a loud voice, he declares that he, too, is willing to enter the fiery furnace for God. Tragically, however, he fails to emerge. Taking pity on his orphaned nephew Lot, Avram commits to taking him under his wing. And that’s why we find Lot accompanying Avram and Sarai on their journey to the Promised Land.
***
The law of trespass and injury states that if Reuven or his animal illegally entered Shimon’s property and then sustained injuries (such as a dog attack), Shimon is not liable. Today’s daf examines the paradoxical question of whether an animal’s mouth is considered its owner’s property. Removing all other variables, obviously it would be, since it is part of the animal and he owns the entire animal. However, consider the following: If Reuven’s cow ate grass in Shimon’s field and Shimon is demanding restitution, might Reuven retort, “I am only liable for damage my animal causes you in your property. In this case, however, the grass consumption occurred in the mouth of my cow, which is my property!” While the Gemara resolves the paradox from our Mishna, the preservation of the other cases presented as evidence implies their enduring application in some aspect of Torah.
אִיבַּעְיָא לְהוּ פִּי פָרָה כַּחֲצַר הַנִּיזָּק דָּמֵי אוֹ כַּחֲצַר הַמַּזִּיק דָּמֵי תָּא שְׁמַע שִׁיסָּה בּוֹ אֶת הַכֶּלֶב שִׁיסָּה בּוֹ אֶת הַנָּחָשׁ פָּטוּר מַאן פָּטוּר מְשַׁסֶּה פָּטוּר וְחַיָּיב בַּעַל כֶּלֶב וְאִי אָמְרַתְּ כַּחֲצַר הַמַּזִּיק דָּמֵי לֵימָא לֵיהּ מַאי בָּעֵי יְדָךְ בְּפוּמֵּיהּ דְּכַלְבַּאי אֵימָא פָּטוּר אַף מְשַׁסֶּה
Is the mouth of a cow like the courtyard of the injured party, or is it like the courtyard of the one responsible for the damage (the owner of the cow)? Come and hear this proof: If he incited a dog against another person, or if he incited a snake against another person, he is exempt. Who is exempt? The one who incited the dog is exempt, but the owner of the dog is liable (for he should have controlled his dog). And if you say that the mouth of the animal is like the courtyard of the one liable for the damage, let the owner of the dog say to the injured party: What was your hand doing in my dog’s mouth?
You can imagine Haran’s anger upon entering the Next World. “God, what happened? I trusted you to save me from death. How could you let me down?” Do you know why God “let Haran down?” Because his entry into the furnace was not an act of faith. When Avram entered, he had no expectation of a miracle. He was simply doing what he felt was right, whatever the consequences. By contrast, Haran expected to emerge unscathed. And so, he decided to ignore the laws of nature and walk into a burning fire. But you can’t walk into a fire and expect to walk out, that’s not how the world works.
How often do we fall into Haran’s trap? We walk into a fiery furnace and when we get burned we complain to God for failing to rescue us from our own unreasonable expectations. Rabbi Doron Kornbluth[1] notes the prevalence of young Jews who inter-date with the mantra that they’re not marrying this person, they’re just dating. He is quick to point out that dating leads to marriage; in fact, he has yet to meet anyone who got married without dating! And so, when the wonderful parents of these dear young people subsequently come to the rabbi asking how Hashem could allow this to happen, the answer is tragically simple. In the words of the Gemara: What was your hand doing in my dog’s mouth? While that’s not the conclusion of the Gemara, the imagery is vivid. Obviously, a hand inside the mouth of a dog or a snake is going to be trapped in its domain, regardless of who was responsible for making that happen.
We need to make sure that we do not place our hands anywhere near that all-consuming spiritually dangerous domain. That way you’re never left scratching your head in dismay, wondering why it happened to you. And there’s no more treacherous snake-mouth than the realm of education. It’s not cheap to send your children and grandchildren to Jewish schools and colleges. But the cost of the alternative is far greater. From the weakening of their religious observance to the adoption of moral relativism and other “postmodernist” ideas that abound in today’s morally bankrupt society, secular educational institutions are not spiritually safe domains.
It’s tempting to dismiss such talk as unnecessary scaremongering. After all, many of us thrived in secular educational settings and emerged from the fire unscathed. But that was then, and this is now. The world has changed radically. The definition of secularism—or as the French call it, laïcité—is the absence of dogmatic influence. Public schools and colleges were originally designed to be devoid of religious thought and persuasion. And so, one could compartmentalize one’s life: you would go to school to learn English, math and science. Afterwards you would attend cheder or Hebrew school to receive instruction in Torah subjects. And “ne’er the twain shall meet.” Just as nobody would say, “Don’t go to work in a secular accountancy firm, because it will threaten your religious values,” in previous generations attending secular educational institutions was untroubling to a family’s commitment to Torah and mitzvos.
Today, however, certain anti-religious values are considered “value-free” by contemporary society. Challenging or doubting those accepted societal norms invites accusations of bigotry and fanaticism and jeopardizes one’s chances of survival in the system. Universities used to be bastions of free speech and open debate. Sadly, many prominent institutions now promote homogeneous thinking, effectively suppressing any “heterodox” ideas.
Let’s keep our hands far away from the snake’s mouth. Let’s strive to educate ourselves, our grandchildren, and our grandchildren in the “safe space” their holy neshamos yearn for. May you merit generations of wise and religious offspring impervious to the ever-changing winds of the day!
Rabbi Dr. Daniel Friedman is the author of The Transformative Daf book series. He battles Christian antisemitism and teaches International Relations at Landers.
