Now the question becomes: when do we assume that it has done
so and when do we not? For example, if there is a package of leaven in front of
two clean houses and mouse comes and takes it, but we don’t know which house it
has gone into – do we re-search one house, both houses, or neither? This,
actually, is compared to another entirely different situation:
If there are two paths, one clean
and the other unclean (because it is known that there is a grave on one of the
paths, but we don’t know which!), and a person went through one of them and
then touched clean [food], and then his neighbor came and went through the
other and he touched clean [food], —
R. Judah said: If they each inquire
separately - they are clean (that is, given the benefit of the doubt); if both
together, they are unclean.
This is like flipping a coin. Each flip will come up
randomly (has a 50% chance of being heads), but if it is definitely known that
one is heads and you flip the other and it comes up tails – you know with
certainly what the other is. One of these two is unclean – if you question them
one at a time, either one could be unclean and the presumption is that it is
the other one. But if you question them both together, one of the two has to be
unclean so you assume they both are. Or at least R. Judah does!
R. Jose said: In both cases they
are unclean. Raba — others say. R. Johanan — said: If they came together, all
agree that they are unclean; if consecutively, all agree that they are clean.
They differ only where one comes to inquire about himself and his neighbor: R.
Jose compares it to [both coming] together, while R. Judah likens it to each
coming separately.
And if you think this is getting a little far down the logical
“rabbit hole,” I leave you this example:
Raba asked: What if a mouse enters
with a loaf in its mouth, and a mouse goes out with a loaf in its mouth: do we
say, the same which went in went out; or perhaps it is a different one? Should
you answer, the same which went in went out, — what if a white mouse entered
with a loaf in its mouth, and black mouse went out with a loaf in its mouth? Now
this is certainly a different one; or perhaps it did indeed seize it from the
other? And should you say, mice do not seize from each other, — what if a mouse
enters with a loaf in its mouth and a weasel goes out with a loaf in it’s
mouth? Now the weasel certainly does take from a mouse; or perhaps it is a
different one, for had it snatched it from the mouse, the mouse would have
[now] been found in its mouth? And should you say, had it snatched it from the
mouse, the mouse would have been found in its mouth, what if a mouse enters
with a loaf in its mouth, and then a weasel comes out with a loaf and a mouse
in the weasel's mouth? Here it is certainly the same; or perhaps, if it were
the same, the loaf should indeed have been found in the mouse's mouth; or
perhaps it fell out [of the mouse's mouth] on account of [its] terror, and it
[the weasel] took it?
The question stands over.
Why, yes. It certainly does.
The dilemmas of deciding if a mouse switches loaves or a weasel makes the mouse drop his loaf, sounds a bit circular, like the story of a country-fellow who came to his Rabbi.
ReplyDelete“Rabbi,” he said, “It puzzles me not to know what Talmud is. Please teach me Talmud.”
"Talmud?” the Rabbi smiled tolerantly, as one does to a child. “You’ll never understand Talmud; you’re a peasant.”
“Oh, Rabbi,” the fellow insisted. “I’ve never asked you for a favor. This time I ask. Please teach me, what is Talmud.”
“Very well,” said the Rabbi, “listen carefully. If two burglars enter a house by way of the chimney, and find themselves in the living room, one with a dirty face and one with a clean face, which one will wash?”
The peasant thought for a while and said, “Naturally, the one with the dirty face.”
“You see,” said the Rabbi, “I told you a farmer couldn’t master Talmud. The one with the clean face looked at the one with the dirty face and, assuming his own face was also dirty, of course, he washed it, while the one with the dirty face, observing the clean face of his colleague, naturally assumed his own was clean, and did not wash it.”
Again the peasant reflected. Then, his face brightening, said, “Thank you, Rabbi, thank you. Now I understand Talmud.”
“See,” said the Rabbi wearily. “It is just as I said. You are a peasant! And who but a peasant would think for a moment that when two burglars enter a house by way of the chimney, only one will have a dirty face?” (shortened version)