Daf Yomi

Chullin 93

StandardAugust 1, 2026

Hook

The journey of conversion (gerut) is often envisioned as a series of soaring, transcendent steps: standing before a beit din (rabbinic court) to declare one’s faith, immersing in the warm, quiet waters of the mikveh, and wrapping oneself in the folds of a tallit for the first time. These moments are indeed holy, but they are not where the daily reality of Jewish life is lived.

If you want to understand what it truly means to bind your fate to the covenant of Israel, you must look at the kitchen table, the cutting board, and the butcher’s knife. You must look at the exquisite, demanding, and sometimes baffling world of halakha (Jewish law) in its most physical, down-to-earth expressions.

In the pages of the Talmud, specifically in Tractate Chullin 93a, we find ourselves plunged into a world of anatomical precision. Here, the Sages do not speak of abstract theological dogmas. Instead, they debate the status of the fat surrounding an animal's kidneys, the location of the veins in a foreleg, and the exact number of sinews in a tailbone.

For someone discerning a Jewish life, this text is a profound mirror. It reveals that in Judaism, holiness is not achieved by escaping the physical world, but by mapping it with absolute mindfulness. To become Jewish is to accept that God cares deeply about the microscopic details of our daily existence—what we eat, how we prepare it, and how we recognize boundaries.

As you read these ancient debates, do not see them as dry, technical exercises. See them as a love letter to the material world, an invitation to turn the mundane act of eating into a continuous, physical dialogue with the Divine.


Context

To fully appreciate the discussion in Chullin 93a, we must understand its place within the larger landscape of Jewish law, the daily life of a Jewish community, and the specific path of the convert.

  • The Realm of Chullin and Kashrut: Tractate Chullin translates literally as "ordinary" or "profane" things. It deals primarily with the laws of non-consecrated slaughter (shechitah) and the dietary laws (kashrut). The underlying premise of the tractate is revolutionary: even when we are not in the Holy Temple, and even when we are eating "ordinary" food for our own physical sustenance, our tables are considered altars. The details discussed here—such as distinguishing between permitted fat (shuman) and forbidden fat (chelev), or removing blood from meat—are the foundational mechanics of keeping a kosher home.
  • The Mechanics of Nikkur (Porging): The Torah strictly prohibits the consumption of blood Leviticus 7:26 and certain fats associated with the sacrificial offerings Leviticus 3:17. To make an animal kosher for consumption, these elements must be meticulously removed in a process called nikkur (in Yiddish, treiberen, or "porging" in English). This is highly skilled work. A kosher butcher (shochet or menaker) must have an intimate, expert knowledge of animal anatomy, understanding exactly where a vein runs, where a membrane splits, and how fat behaves when the animal is alive versus when it is slaughtered.
  • Relevance to the Beit Din and Mikveh: When you stand before a beit din at the culmination of your conversion process, the rabbis will not expect you to be a master menaker who can skin a foreleg and extract its veins. However, they will look for a deep, sincere commitment to the laws of kashrut. They will want to see that you have begun the process of restructuring your life around these daily boundaries. The physical immersion in the mikveh is a total, bodily commitment to a life of holiness; kashrut is the daily, lived extension of that immersion. It is the way we maintain that sanctity with every bite we take.

Text Snapshot

The following lines from Chullin 93a illustrate the precision, the localized traditions, and the intense responsibility of those who prepare food for the Jewish community:

"The fat that is covered by the flesh is permitted. Apparently, when the Merciful One states in the Torah that the fat that is upon the loins is prohibited (see Leviticus 3:4), it is referring only to the fat above the loins but not the fat that is inside the loins...

Rabbi Yoḥanan said to Rav Shemen bar Abba: These crushed testicles are permitted for consumption, but you should not eat them due to the dictum: 'And do not forsake the Torah of your mother' (Proverbs 1:8)...

It was stated: With regard to a butcher who removed the forbidden fats of the animal, and yet forbidden fat was found after he completed his work, Rav Yehuda says that the butcher is held liable if there is forbidden fat remaining that is the size of a barley grain. Rabbi Yoḥanan says that the butcher is held liable only if there is forbidden fat remaining that is the size of an olive-bulk."


Close Reading

Insight 1: The Revealed and the Concealed – Halakhic Anatomy and the Sincerity of Belonging

At the very heart of the opening discussion in Chullin 93a lies a fundamental distinction: the difference between fat that is exposed and fat that is covered by flesh. The Talmud states:

"The fat that is covered by the flesh is permitted... the Merciful One states in the Torah that the fat that is upon the loins is prohibited, it is referring only to the fat above the loins but not the fat that is inside the loins."

To understand the depth of this distinction, we must turn to the classical commentators who spent centuries parsing these anatomical boundaries. In his commentary on this passage, Rashi (sh'yichyeh) writes:

"חלב שהבשר חופה אותו - חלב שעל הכסלים שתחת הכליות ונראה בגובה הכסלים ואח"כ נבלע תחת הבשר אדום דק ומתפשט תחת אותו בשר בכל הכסלים ומשהבשר חופהו מותר..."

"The fat that the flesh covers—this is the fat on the loins that is under the kidneys, which is visible on the height of the loins, and afterward is swallowed under the thin red flesh and spreads out under that flesh throughout the loins; and once the flesh covers it, it is permitted."

Rashi is describing a physical phenomenon: fat that starts out exposed to the eye but eventually dips beneath a protective layer of muscle and tissue. Once it is "swallowed" (nival) beneath the red meat, its spiritual status changes. It is no longer classified as the forbidden chelev that must be offered on the altar; it becomes ordinary, permitted fat.

The medieval authority, the Rashba (Rabbi Shlomo ben Aderet), in his extensive notes on Chullin 92b:8, takes this discussion further. He analyzes a dispute regarding the white part of the kidney (luban she-be-kulyah):

"לובן כוליא רב[י] ור' חייא חד אסר וחד שרי... קיימא לן כשמואל דאמר חלב שהבשר חופה אותו מותר, דהא ליכא מאן דפליג עלה..."

"The white of the kidney: Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] and Rabbi Chiyya—one forbade it and one permitted it... We establish the law in accordance with Shmuel, who said: 'The fat that the flesh covers is permitted,' for there is no one who disagrees with him..."

The Rashba explains that even though there are disputes about the exact margins of these tissues, the underlying principle remains firm: physical coverage changes the spiritual reality.

For you, as someone walking the path of conversion, this halakhic principle contains a beautiful, comforting metaphor. The process of gerut is an journey of moving from the "exposed" to the "covered."

When you first begin exploring Judaism, your interest, your questions, and your presence in the synagogue are highly visible, much like the fat on the "height of the loins." You may feel exposed, vulnerable, and deeply aware of your status as an outsider. You are "above the flesh," navigating a new vocabulary, a new calendar, and a new community where everyone else seems to know exactly what they are doing.

But as you commit to a life of Torah and mitzvot, a transformation occurs. The practices that once felt foreign and external slowly become "swallowed" beneath the surface of your daily life. They become integrated into your muscle memory.

Keeping kosher is no longer a checklist of rules you must anxiously consult; it is simply how you eat. Shabbat is no longer a performance you are trying to get right; it is the natural rhythm of your week. Your Jewish soul becomes "covered by the flesh" of your lived experience.

Furthermore, this text reminds us of the profound integrity required in Jewish practice. The Talmud notes that when the animal is alive, its limbs move and separate, exposing fat that appears covered when the animal is at rest:

"When an animal is alive its limbs separate at the joints as it walks, so that the fat under the loins is exposed."

The Sages look at the animal in motion, not just in stillness. They ask: How does this creature actually live?

In the same way, a beit din looking at a candidate for conversion does not just look at how they perform in the quiet, controlled environment of a classroom or an interview. They want to know: How do you walk? When the joints of your life are moving—when you face stress, when you travel, when you are away from the supportive eyes of your community—is your commitment to the covenant still intact?

Sincerity in gerut is about ensuring that what is "covered" and what is "exposed" are aligned in holiness.


Insight 2: "The Torah of Your Mother" – Custom, Lineage, and the Adoption of Ancestral Memory

The second major insight from our text emerges from a deeply personal exchange between Rabbi Yochanan and Rav Shemen bar Abba. The Talmud relates:

"Rabbi Yoḥanan said to Rav Shemen bar Abba: These crushed testicles are permitted for consumption, but you should not eat them due to the dictum: 'And do not forsake the Torah of your mother' (Proverbs 1:8)."

Rav Shemen bar Abba was a Babylonian sage living in the Land of Israel. In Babylonia, the community had adopted a strict custom to forbid this specific meat. Even though the local ruling in the Land of Israel was lenient, and even though Rabbi Yochanan himself held that the food was technically permissible, he instructed his student to maintain the stringency of his home community.

This concept—Al titosh torat imecha ("Do not forsake the Torah of your mother")—is one of the most powerful principles in Jewish law. It dictates that a Jew is bound not only by the universal laws of the Torah, but also by the specific, localized customs (minhagim) of their family and ancestral community.

Let us look at how the Rashba unpacks this dynamic. In his analysis of the differing practices between the sages, he writes:

"...והא דרבא ורבי יוחנן דממרטט ליה דילמא מדת חסידות ולהחמיר על עצמו..."

"...And this practice of Raba and Rabbi Yochanan, who would scrape it off—perhaps it was a measure of piety (Middat Chasidut) to be stringent upon themselves..."

The Rashba highlights that Jewish law is not a monolithic, flat system. It is a living, breathing tapestry where different communities develop different levels of stringency, custom, and piety. Rashi, in his commentary on Chullin 93a:1:1, notes a similar geographical divergence:

"...ותחת אותו קרום עב יש חלב ויש שנוהגים איסור באותו חלב לפי שאותו קרום אינו חשוב חפוי בשר שדק הוא אבל בארץ אשכנז נוהגין בו היתר וגם בעיני נראה דחפוי גמור הוא..."

"...And under that thick membrane there is fat, and there are those who practice prohibition regarding that fat because they hold that this membrane is not considered a proper covering of flesh since it is thin. But in the land of Germany (Eretz Ashkenaz), they practice permission, and also in my eyes it appears to be a complete covering..."

Here, Rashi explicitly points out that the Jews of Germany had a different lived practice than other communities. They looked at the very same physical structure of the animal and, based on their received traditions, permitted what others forbade.

For someone undergoing conversion, this discussion of "your mother's Torah" and localized custom can feel incredibly complex, and perhaps a bit daunting. You might ask: If I am converting, who is my "mother" in this context? I do not have a Jewish lineage. Whose customs do I follow?

This is where the profound beauty of gerut shines. When you convert, you do not just adopt "generic Judaism"—because generic Judaism does not exist. You are adopted by a specific community. You inherit their "mother's Torah."

If you are converting under the auspices of an Ashkenazic rabbi and community, you will adopt the customs of Eretz Ashkenaz, learning to distinguish between different types of fat and dairy customs according to their rulings. If you are converting in a Sephardic community, you will adopt the rulings of the Shulchan Aruch and the beautiful, warm traditions of the Jews of Spain and the Middle East.

But there is an even deeper layer of meaning here for a ger. By telling Rav Shemen bar Abba to honor his mother's Torah, Rabbi Yochanan is validating the power of inherited memory.

As a convert, you are performing a miraculous act of spiritual adoption. You are stepping into a lineage of grandmothers and grandfathers who stood at Mount Sinai, who wept by the rivers of Babylon, and who kept kosher in the small towns of Eastern Europe or the sun-drenched courtyards of North Africa.

When you keep a specific custom—whether it is waiting three hours or six hours between meat and milk, or lighting Shabbat candles at a specific time—you are saying: These ancestors are now my ancestors. Their mother is now my mother. Her Torah is now my Torah.

At the same time, this text offers a gentle warning about the nature of stringency. The Rashba notes that some practices are a Middat Chasidut—a "measure of piety."

When you are in the beginning or intermediate stages of conversion, there is a natural temptation to want to adopt every single stringency (chumrah) you read about. You want to be "perfect."

But the Sages teach us that this is not the path of wisdom. A convert must first build a solid, stable foundation in the baseline halakha before taking on extra-legal stringencies. To do otherwise is to risk burnout and to lose the joy of the commandments.

By understanding the boundaries of "your mother's Torah," you learn to respect the slow, organic process of spiritual growth, honoring the community that has welcomed you while remaining patient with your own development.


Insight 3: The Weight of Responsibility – The Barley Grain and the Olive-Bulk

Our text also introduces a fascinating debate regarding the liability of a professional kosher butcher (menaker):

"With regard to a butcher who removed the forbidden fats of the animal, and yet forbidden fat was found after he completed his work... Rav Yehuda says that the butcher is held liable if there is forbidden fat remaining that is the size of a barley grain. Rabbi Yoḥanan says that the butcher is held liable only if there is forbidden fat remaining that is the size of an olive-bulk."

The Talmud resolves this by distinguishing between two different types of consequences:

"And the halakha is that with regard to flogging him, the butcher is liable only if he left forbidden fat the size of an olive-bulk. With regard to removing him [from his position], the butcher is liable even if he left forbidden fat the size of a barley grain."

An "olive-bulk" (kezayit) is the standard halakhic measure for liability regarding the consumption of forbidden foods. If a person willingly eats a kezayit of forbidden fat, they have crossed a major legal threshold.

But a "barley grain" (se'orah) is much smaller. Why would a butcher be removed from his sacred office for leaving behind such a tiny speck of fat?

Because of the concept of trust (ne'emanut). A butcher is not just a commercial meat merchant; he is a trustee of the spiritual health of the entire community.

If a butcher is lazy or careless, even to the microscopic degree of a barley grain, he has shown that he does not carry the weight of his responsibility with the proper awe. He cannot be trusted to guard the souls of his fellow Jews.

As you explore conversion, this passage highlights the immense, beautiful gravity of the covenant you are seeking to enter. Judaism is a religion of absolute responsibility.

When you convert, you are not just making a private, spiritual decision that affects only you and God. You are joining a people whose spiritual welfare is deeply interconnected. The choices you make in your private kitchen, the integrity with which you observe the Shabbat, and the honesty with which you conduct your business affairs all ripple outward into the collective soul of the Jewish nation.

This is why the conversion process is not quick, and why a beit din will never rush a candidate. They are assessing your readiness to carry this level of responsibility.

They want to see if you understand that in Jewish life, there are no "insignificant" details. A barley grain of carelessness can compromise the spiritual integrity of a home.

But do not let this gravity frighten you. Instead, let it inspire you.

How magnificent it is to live a life where your smallest actions matter so deeply! In a world that often feels disposable, fragmented, and devoid of ultimate meaning, the Torah offers you a life where even a fraction of a barley grain is a matter of cosmic significance. You are being invited to become a trustee of the Divine presence on earth.


Lived Rhythm

Now that we have plumbed the depths of the Talmudic text, let us translate these lofty concepts into a concrete, practical step for your daily life.

You do not need to wait until your conversion is complete to begin aligning your life with the physical rhythms of the covenant. In fact, the beit din will want to see that you have already begun integrating these practices into your daily routine.

Your Next Step: The "Kosher Step-Up" Learning and Action Plan

Since our text is deeply rooted in the physical reality of kashrut and the meticulous mindfulness of what we consume, your next step is to introduce a structured, intentional ladder of kosher observance into your home.

Kashrut is not an all-or-nothing system; it is a spiritual mountain that you climb one shelf at a time. Here is a three-phase plan to implement over the next few weeks:

+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|               THE KOSHER STEP-UP LADDER                     |
+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|                                                             |
|  [PHASE 3: Separating Vessels & Sourcing Kosher Meat]       |
|  - Dedicate specific pots/pans/utensils for meat and dairy. |
|  - Begin purchasing meat with a reliable Kosher hechsher.   |
|                               ^                             |
|                               |                             |
|  [PHASE 2: Mindful Eating & Checking for Hechsherim]        |
|  - Look for reliable kosher symbols (OU, OK, Star-K, etc.). |
|  - Say a Brachah (blessing) before eating any food.         |
|                               ^                             |
|                               |                             |
|  [PHASE 1: Setting Boundaries & Eliminating Non-Kosher]    |
|  - Stop eating biblically forbidden animals (pork, shellfish)|
|  - Commit to never mixing meat and dairy in the same meal.  |
|                                                             |
+-------------------------------------------------------------+

Phase 1: Setting the Biblical Boundaries (Week 1–2)

  • The Action: If you have not already done so, completely eliminate biblically forbidden animals from your diet (such as pork and shellfish, see Leviticus 11).
  • The Boundary: Commit to never mixing meat and dairy in the same meal. If you eat a turkey sandwich, do not put cheese on it. If you eat a steak, wait several hours before consuming dairy.
  • The Spiritual Intention: Before you take your first bite of a simplified meal, pause for three seconds. Remind yourself: “I am eating this way because I am training my body to recognize boundaries, preparing myself to enter the covenant of Israel.”

Phase 2: Mindful Sourcing and Hechsherim (Week 3–4)

  • The Action: Start looking at the packaging of the processed foods in your pantry. Begin identifying the hechsherim—the kosher certification symbols (such as the OU, OK, Star-K, or CRC).
  • The Learning: Download a kosher food guide or app (like the cRc Kosher app) and learn what these symbols mean. When you go grocery shopping, make a conscious effort to only buy products (like bread, pasta, and sauces) that bear a reliable certification.
  • The Spiritual Intention: Introduce the practice of saying a brachah (blessing) before you eat. Even if you only know the blessing in English, reciting "Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who brings forth bread from the earth" before eating bread transforms a physical instinct into an act of worship.

Phase 3: Sourcing Kosher Meat (Week 5+)

  • The Action: Take the step of purchasing actual kosher-certified meat from a local Jewish market or a specialized section of your grocery store.
  • The Connection to the Text: As you cook this meat, remember the discussion in Chullin 93a. Think of the generations of menakrim (butchers) who meticulously removed the veins and the forbidden fats so that you could eat this meal in holiness. You are now a recipient of their sacred labor.

Community

One of the most vital lessons of Chullin 93a is that Jewish law cannot be practiced in isolation. A butcher cannot certify himself; he is dependent on the oversight of the Sages. Rabbi Yochanan had to instruct Rav Shemen bar Abba on how to navigate his customs.

You cannot become Jewish from a book, a website, or a video. Jewishness is a communal reality. It is learned through relationships, shared meals, and face-to-face study.

Your Way to Connect: Find a Chavrusa (Study Partner)

Your concrete community step is to find a chavrusa—a study partner—or join a live, interactive class focusing on practical halakha (Jewish law) or Talmud study.

How to Find Your Chavrusa/Study Group:
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
| 1. Ask Your Sponsoring Rabbi:                                   |
|    "Do you know an experienced community member or fellow       |
|    student who would be open to studying practical halakha?"    |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
                                |
                                v
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
| 2. Look for Local/Online Study Circles:                         |
|    Join a "Foundations of Judaism" or "Introduction to Talmud"  |
|    class at a local synagogue or via reputable Jewish platforms. |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
                                |
                                v
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
| 3. Set a Simple, Consistent Commitment:                         |
|    Meet for just 30 minutes a week. Focus on reading and        |
|    discussing a text together, sharing how it applies to life.  |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+

When you study with another person, you are replicating the exact dynamic of the "study hall" (bei midrasha) mentioned by Rabbi Yochanan in our text:

"I remember that this is what they would say in the study hall..."

In the study hall, Torah is not just memorized; it is debated, lived, and passed down from person to person.

By finding a partner—even if you are both beginners—you are building the relational infrastructure of your future Jewish life. You will have someone to text when you are confused about a kosher symbol, someone to sit next to in the synagogue, and someone to celebrate with when you finally emerge from the mikveh.


Takeaway

The path of conversion is a journey of exquisite detail. It is an invitation to step out of a life of vague spiritualities and into a covenant that is carved into the very flesh of our daily lives.

In Chullin 93a, we see that God is found not only in the grand, dramatic moments of history, but also in the quiet corners of the kitchen, in the margins of a kidney, and in the faithful preservation of a family custom.

As you continue your discernment, take comfort in these details. They are not barriers to keep you out; they are the very bricks with which you will build your future Jewish home.

Walk this path with patience, with sincerity, and with a deep reverence for the "Torah of your mother." Every step you take, no matter how small, is a sacred link in an unbroken chain of covenantal love.