Chullin 110

Hook

Have you ever walked into a room and immediately realized you missed the memo on the dress code? Or maybe you sat down at a friend’s dinner table and watched them eat something that your own family would never dream of serving?

It is a deeply human feeling to stand on the outside of a local custom, wondering whether you should bend your own rules to fit in, or stand your ground and risk looking like an oddball. We all want to belong, but we also want to stay true to who we are.

In this lesson, we are going to drop in on an ancient, high-stakes clash of customs. We will meet a brilliant, slightly rebellious traveler who rolls into a new town, eats a food the locals consider totally forbidden, and gets hauled before the local judge.

What follows is not a story of anger or excommunication, but a dazzling, witty, and surprisingly warm masterclass in mutual respect. This text shows us how we can navigate differences in our communities, families, and workplaces today. It offers us a way to maintain our personal boundaries while still keeping the peace. Let's dive in!

---

Context

To understand this lively debate, we need to set the scene in ancient Babylonia, around fifteen hundred years ago. Here are four quick keys to help you get your bearings:

• The Setting: Our story takes place in Babylonia (modern-day Iraq), which was the beating heart of Jewish intellectual life for centuries. The discussions of the Sages (Sages: wise rabbinic scholars of ancient times) in these academy towns were compiled into the Talmud (Talmud: the core text of Jewish law and rabbinic discussion).
• The Sister Cities: This story features two famous Jewish towns with very different vibes. Sura was the conservative, highly structured, and strictly governed capital. Pumbedita was the quirky, ultra-intellectual town where people loved sharp logic, debates, and finding creative solutions to everyday problems.
• The Culinary Controversy: The debate centers on eating an animal's udder. Because an udder holds milk but is made of meat, it sits at a tricky boundary. Is it kosher (kosher: food that satisfies the requirements of Jewish law) to eat? Sura said a flat "no" to avoid any mistakes. Pumbedita said "yes," provided you prepared it correctly by roasting it to drain the milk.
• The Key Term: To follow the action, we need to understand one foundational term: Halakha (halakha: Jewish religious law guiding daily life). Halakha is not just a list of "dos and don'ts." It is an ongoing, living conversation about how to bring holiness into our everyday actions.

---

Text Snapshot

Here is the moment the traveler from Pumbedita, named Rami bar Tamrei, meets the strict judge of Sura, Rav Chisda. The tension is high, and the community is watching.

"In Sura they would not eat udders at all... But in Pumbedita they would eat udders. Rami bar Tamrei... arrived in Sura on the eve of Yom Kippur (Yom Kippur: the Jewish Day of Atonement, a day of fasting)... everyone brought out their udders... and threw them away. Rami bar Tamrei went and gathered the udders, roasted them, and ate them... The residents of Sura brought him before Rav Chisda." — Chullin 110a:10 / https://www.sefaria.org/Chullin_110

---

Close Reading

Now, let's unpack this text piece by piece. We will explore three powerful insights that can help us navigate our own complex relationships and communities today.

Insight 1: The Geography of Belonging

When Rami bar Tamrei rolls into Sura, it is the day before Yom Kippur. In Jewish tradition, this is a day of festive eating before the fast begins. The people of Sura are preparing their meals, and because of their strict local custom, they are throwing away the udders of their slaughtered animals.

To Rami, who is from Pumbedita, this looks like a massive waste of perfectly good food. In his hometown, eating roasted udder is completely normal. So, he does something incredibly bold: he gathers their discarded food, roasts it, and eats it right in front of them.

Naturally, the locals are shocked. They haul him before their local judge, Rav Chisda. The judge asks him: "Why did you do this? Don't you hold by the rule that a traveler must follow the strict rules of the place they are visiting?"

Rami’s answer is brilliant. He says: "I ate them outside the city boundaries."

Let us look at how the classic commentator Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz explains the underlying law here in his commentary on Chullin 110a:1:

שבשלה בחלבה (החלב שינק הגדי מאמו) — הריהי אסורה, שאפילו בדיעבד נמי [שנעשה הדבר גם כן] לא יאכלנה, לכך תנא נמי רישא [שנה גם כן בהתחלה] שבשלה בלשון בדיעבד, ואולם מעיקר הדין, אף לכתחילה מותר לצלות את הכחל בחלבו.

"An udder that one cooked in its milk (the milk the calf nursed from its mother) is prohibited... even after the fact, one may not eat it. However, by strict law, even initially, one is permitted to roast the udder with its milk."

Steinsaltz shows us that Rami was not actually breaking any core biblical law. By strict law, roasting an udder is totally fine because roasting draws the milk out rather than cooking it together. Sura's ban was a protective fence, not a fundamental law.

By eating the food outside the physical boundaries of the town, Rami managed a difficult double-feat. He stayed true to his own family traditions while technically respecting the local space of Sura.

This teaches us a profound lesson about boundaries. Sometimes, we do not need to force ourselves to adopt everyone else's style, nor do we need to rub our differences in their faces. Finding a "private space" to honor our personal practices can be a beautiful way to maintain our integrity without causing a public scene.

Insight 2: The Rapid-Fire Interrogation

Rav Chisda, the judge, is not done yet. He decides to test this bold traveler with a rapid-fire series of questions to see if he is a lawbreaker or a scholar.

First, Rav Chisda asks: "What did you use for firewood to roast those udders?" Rami answers: "I used discarded grape seeds." Rav Chisda pushes back: "But those grape seeds might have come from non-kosher wine!" Rami replies: "They were dry and over twelve months old, so any leftover liquid had completely evaporated." Rav Chisda tries again: "But maybe those seeds were stolen property?" Rami answers: "Grass was growing through them. The owners had clearly abandoned them long ago."

Now the judge looks closely at Rami's appearance. He notices two major things: Rami is not wearing tefillin (tefillin: leather boxes containing scriptural verses worn during weekday morning prayers), and his four-cornered garment is missing tzitzit (tzitzit: knotted fringes attached to the four corners of garments).

To a traditional observer, this looks highly suspicious. Let's look at how the commentaries unpack this tense moment.

First, regarding the tefillin, Steinsaltz on Chullin 110a:10 explains:

חזייה דלא הוה מנח [ראהו רב חסדא שרמי בר תמרי אינו מניח] תפילין, וכדרכם של תלמידי חכמים שתפילין בראשיהם, אמר ליה [לו]: מאי טעמא לא מנחת [מה טעם אין אתה מניח] תפילין? אמר ליה [לו] רמי בר תמרי לרב חסדא: חולי מעיין הוא (אני), ואמר רב יהודה כי זה שחולה בחולי מעיין הריהו פטור מן התפילין, שכן תפילין דורשות גוף נקי, ואילו אדם זה שנזקק תכופות לצרכיו, הריהו צריך לחולצן פעמים רבות.

"Rav Chisda saw that Rami bar Tamrei was not wearing tefillin, as was the custom of scholars to have tefillin on their heads. He said to him: 'What is the reason you do not wear tefillin?' Rami said: 'I suffer from an intestinal illness, and Rav Yehuda said that one with an intestinal illness is exempt from tefillin, because tefillin require a clean body, and one who needs the bathroom frequently must remove them constantly.'"

The great medieval commentator Rashi on Chullin 110a:10:1 agrees with this practical, compassionate ruling in just a few short words:

פטור מן התפילין - מפני שצריך לחלצן תדיר:

"Exempt from tefillin—because he must remove them constantly."

Next, Rav Chisda points to Rami's cloak. In ancient times, Jewish garments were required to have ritual fringes. The commentator Rabbeinu Gershom on Chullin 110a:10 notes:

חזיה. דלית ליה חוטי ציצית:

"He saw that he did not have the threads of tzitzit."

Why was Rami walking around without these sacred fringes? Rami explains: "This is a borrowed cloak."

Steinsaltz on Chullin 110a:11 translates Rami's defense:

ועוד חזייה דלא הוה קא רמי חוטי [ראהו רב חסדא לרמי בר תמרי שהוא לא הטיל חוטי ציצית בבגדו], אמר ליה [לו]: מאי טעמא לית לך חוטי [מה טעם אין לך חוטי ציצית בבגדך]? אמר ליה [לו] רמי בר תמרי לרב חסדא: טלית שאולה היא זו...

"And further, he saw that he had not cast threads of tzitzit on his garment. He said to him: 'What is the reason you have no threads of tzitzit on your garment?' Rami said to Rav Chisda: 'This is a borrowed cloak...'"

Rabbeinu Gershom on Chullin 110a:11 explains the rule for a borrowed garment:

פטורה מן הציצית כל ל' יום. כלומר בתוך ל' יום אבל אם שאלה יותר מל' יום חייבת בציצית:

"It is exempt from tzitzit for thirty days. That is to say, within thirty days, but if he borrowed it for more than thirty days, it is obligated in tzitzit."

To understand why this is the law, we can look at the commentator Meiri on Chullin 110a:7:

טלית שאולה מן התורה פטורה מן הציצית לעולם שנא' כסותך ולא של אחרים ומדברי סופרים לחייבה בציצית אחר שלשים יום מפני שכל הרואה אותו שלבשה שלשים יום סבור שהיא שלו שאין דרך להשאיל ביתר משלשים יום ויביא עצמו בכך לידי חשד:

"A borrowed cloak is biblically exempt from tzitzit forever, as it is written 'your garment' Deuteronomy 22:12 and not another's. But by rabbinic decree, one is obligated after thirty days, because anyone who sees him wearing it for thirty days will assume it is his... and he would bring himself into suspicion."

Look at what is happening here! Rami is not a lazy person cutting corners. He is a master of the law who knows exactly why he is doing what he is doing. He has a highly logical, valid reason for every single action.

This dialogue shows us the danger of making quick assumptions. Rav Chisda saw a man eating weird food, missing his ritual fringes, and not wearing his prayer boxes. It looked like a clear case of someone who did not care about the rules.

But when he asked, he discovered a brilliant mind operating with deep integrity. The lesson for us is clear: before we judge someone else's lifestyle, choices, or habits, we should ask them about their story. There is almost always a reason.

Insight 3: Human Dignity Trumps Institutional Power

Just as this intense debate is wrapping up, a dramatic distraction occurs. The local court officers drag in a man who has been refusing to honor his elderly parents. The officers tie him to a post and prepare to whip him as a punishment.

Suddenly, Rami bar Tamrei steps in and stops them. He says: "Leave him alone! We have an ancient rule: if a positive mitzva (mitzva: a commandment or good deed in Jewish tradition) has its reward written right next to it in the Torah (Torah: the primary Jewish sacred text and teachings), the human court is not allowed to enforce it with physical punishment."

Rami points out that the Torah explicitly promises a reward for honoring parents: "that your days may be long, and that it go well with you" Deuteronomy 5:16. Therefore, Rami argues, this is a matter between the man, his family, and God. The local police have no right to whip him.

This is a stunning turn of events. Rami, who was just on trial himself, steps up to protect the dignity of another human being—even someone who was acting poorly. He uses his sharp legal mind to limit the power of the authorities and prevent violence.

How does Rav Chisda react? He does not get angry. Instead, he looks at Rami and says, with genuine admiration: "I see that you are incredibly sharp."

And Rami, keeping his signature Pumbedita wit, replies: "If you came to my hometown and met my teacher, Rav Yehuda, I could show you what real sharpness looks like!"

Instead of a story about punishment and anger, the text ends with mutual respect. The strict judge of Sura and the witty traveler of Pumbedita find common ground. They realize that while they dress differently and eat different foods, they both care deeply about wisdom, logic, and human dignity.

---

Apply It

How can we bring this ancient Babylonian wisdom into our modern, busy lives? We might not be debating how to cook cow udders, but we clash over customs, habits, and rules every single day.

Here is a simple, daily practice you can try this week. It takes less than 60 seconds a day.

The 60-Second "Custom Curiosity Pause"

When you feel yourself starting to judge someone else's behavior today—whether it is a coworker's odd email style, a partner's way of loading the dishwasher, or a stranger's public behavior—try this three-step exercise:

1. Notice the Trigger (10 seconds): Catch yourself in the moment of judgment. Feel that slight tightening in your chest that says, "That is not how you do that!"
2. Ask the "Pumbedita Question" (20 seconds): Say to yourself, "Is this a core moral issue, or is this just a clash of local customs?" Most of the time, it is just a different way of roasting the udder.
3. Choose Curiosity Over Correction (30 seconds): Instead of correcting them or writing them off, ask a gentle question or simply tell yourself, "They have their own Sura, and I have my own Pumbedita. And that is okay."

This tiny daily practice can help lower your stress levels. It might open the door to beautiful conversations, and it will help you build a more inclusive, peaceful environment around you.

---

Chevruta Mini

In Jewish tradition, we do not study alone. We study in a pair called a Chevruta (chevruta: a traditional partnership for studying Jewish texts). Here are two friendly questions to discuss with a friend, a partner, or even to ponder by yourself over a cup of coffee:

1. Rami bar Tamrei had a perfectly logical, legal reason for everything he did, yet he still managed to upset the locals of Sura. Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you were technically "in the right," but you still caused friction with the people around you? How did you handle it?
2. Rav Chisda showed incredible openness by listening to Rami's defenses and eventually praising his sharp mind, rather than pulling rank as a judge. How can we cultivate that same openness when we are confronted by someone who challenges our way of doing things?

---

Takeaway

Remember this: different customs are not a threat to our unity, but an invitation to look past our assumptions and discover the brilliant stories of the people around us.