Bava Batra 74 presents two stories that sound like treasure-hunting adventure book stories (from the William Davidson edition of the Talmud):
Rabbi Yoḥanan relates: “Once we were traveling on a ship and we saw a certain crate (kartalita) in which precious stones and pearls were set, and a species of fish called sharks encircled it. He descended, i.e., a diver (bar amoraei) went into the water to bring up this chest, and the fish became angry and sought to sever his thigh, but the diver threw upon it a flask of vinegar and they descended and swam away. A divine voice emerged and said to us: ‘What right do you have to touch the crate of the wife of Rabbi Ḥanina ben Dosa, as she is destined to insert sky-blue wool in it to be used in the ritual fringes of the righteous in the world-to-come?’”
Rav Yehuda from India relates: “Once we were traveling in a ship and we saw a certain precious stone that was encircled by a snake. A diver descended to bring it up, and the snake came and sought to swallow the ship. A raven came and cut off its head, and the water turned into blood due to the enormousness of the snake. Another snake came, took the precious stone, and hung it on the dead snake, and it recovered. It returned and again sought to swallow the ship, and yet again a bird came and cut off its head, took that precious stone, and threw it onto the ship. We had with us these salted birds; we placed the stone on them, and they took the stone and flew away with it.”
What messages might Chazal convey by telling these stories that seem more appropriate for an adventure novel than a Talmudic page? One significant difference is that the treasure is not attained despite heroic efforts in the Gemara’s stories. What messages are conveyed by this failure? On a basic level, it teaches that it is not worth risking life and limb in the pursuit of lost treasure.
More important is the foundational message that sometimes, despite our extraordinary efforts, Hashem does not want us to achieve what we seek. Someone may be destined to receive a reward only in the world to come, as in the story of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa’s wife and the golden table leg (Taanit 25a). Whatever the reason, Hashem sets limitations that we dare not exceed despite—or, perhaps, even because of—the exceptional efforts we make. Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa triggered many exceptional miracles, but his wife recognized that the golden leg he procured from Shamayim had better be returned to its original place.
This lesson extends beyond treasure hunting. The same lesson applies to a rav trying to find leniency to help a distressed congregant valiantly. Sometimes, in such cases, one reaches a limit one may not cross. Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik relates about his grandfather, Rav Chaim Soloveitchik, who believed in striving for leniency based on the personal needs of the inquirer. However, even Rav Chaim’s skills had limits. When you reach the boundary of Halacha beyond which you dare not pass, you must say: “I surrender to the will of the Almighty.”
Conclusion: Know Your Limits
Hashem mandates Adam Harishon with the task of filling the land and conquering it (Bereishit 1:28). Ramban explains that, “Hashem gave us power and dominion over the earth to do as we wish with the cattle, the reptiles, and all that crawl in the dust, and to build, and to pluck up that which is planted, and from its hills to dig copper and other similar things.”
Tehillim (8:6) even shockingly describes mankind as just shy of reaching Hashem’s level. Nonetheless, beyond these mandated advances lay a divine set boundary we pass at our peril.
May Hashem grant us the courage to venture forth and accomplish great things, and may He also grant us the wisdom on when to draw the line.
Rabbi Jachter serves as the rav of Congregation Shaarei Orah, rebbe at Torah Academy of Bergen County and a get administrator with the Beth Din of Elizabeth. Rabbi Jachter’s 18 books may be purchased at Amazon and Judaica House.
