Zevachim 59

Hook

Ever noticed how a single word can dictate the entire architecture of a sacred space, or how the slightest flaw in a holy object can invalidate a monumental act of worship? Our sugya in Zevachim 59 dives deep into these non-obvious yet foundational principles, revealing a world where divine commands are interpreted with breathtaking precision, shaping not just the layout of the Temple but also the very efficacy of its rituals. We're about to explore how the Gemara, through meticulous textual analysis and dialectical reasoning, uncovers the profound implications hidden within seemingly simple biblical verses, challenging our assumptions about what constitutes a "valid" space or a "complete" vessel for divine service. This isn't just about ancient blueprints; it's about the enduring philosophy of kedushah (holiness) and perfection that underpins Jewish ritual life.

Context

To truly appreciate the intricate debates in Zevachim 59, we must first ground ourselves in the profound significance of the Mishkan and later the Beit HaMikdash (Tabernacle and Temple) in Jewish thought. These structures were not merely buildings; they were considered the earthly dwelling place of the Shechinah, the Divine Presence. Every dimension, every material, and crucially, every spatial relationship within these sacred precincts was imbued with cosmic meaning and meticulously prescribed by divine command. The architectural precision wasn't just for aesthetics or practical functionality; it was a physical manifestation of divine order and holiness. Any deviation, no matter how seemingly minor, could disrupt this delicate balance and compromise the spiritual efficacy of the service performed within.

This understanding informs the Gemara's intense focus on the precise placement of the Kiyor (Basin) relative to the Mizbei'ach (Altar) and the Heichal (Sanctuary). The verse "the altar of the burnt offering he set at the entrance to the Tabernacle of the Tent of Meeting" (Exodus 40:29) isn't just a descriptive detail; it becomes a foundational halakha dictating that nothing should interpose between the Altar and the Sanctuary's entrance. This principle of non-interposition (hefsek) is critical in many areas of halakha, symbolizing an unobstructed connection to the divine. The Gemara here isn't just arranging furniture; it's defining the very conduits of spiritual flow.

Furthermore, the discussion about a "damaged altar" and its impact on sacrifices ties directly into the concept of hidur mitzvah – the beautification and perfection of a commandment. While hidur often implies going beyond the basic requirement, here it reveals that perfection is sometimes the basic requirement itself, especially for objects of kedushah. A damaged vessel cannot perfectly fulfill its sacred function, and thus, the offerings made upon it may be disqualified. This highlights a deep theological point: the integrity of the physical instrument of worship is inseparable from the spiritual integrity of the worship itself. The Temple, in all its minutiae, was meant to reflect a divine ideal, and any flaw, whether in placement or physical form, could compromise that reflection. This commitment to precision and perfection, even in the absence of the Temple today, continues to influence how we approach ritual objects and sacred spaces in Jewish life, from the unblemished Sefer Torah to the carefully arranged seder plate. The sugya thus offers us a window into a mindset where every detail in the service of God is deemed profoundly significant.

Text Snapshot

The Gemara on Zevachim 59 delves into critical questions regarding the Temple's layout and the validity of sacrifices:

"the altar of the burnt offering he set at the entrance to the Tabernacle of the Tent of Meeting. (Exodus 40:29), indicating that no object was allowed to be located between the altar and the Tent of Meeting, whose parallel, in the Temple, was the Sanctuary. Rabbi Yosei HaGelili derives from these verses that only the altar stood at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting, but the Basin did not stand at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting. Where would they place the Basin? It was placed between the Entrance Hall and the altar, extended slightly toward the south." (Zevachim 59a)

"the verse states: “And he shall slaughter it on the side of the altar northward [tzafona]” (Leviticus 1:11). This verse indicates that the north section of the Temple courtyard must be vacant of all vessels, including the Basin." (Zevachim 59a)

"Rav says: In a case of an altar that was damaged, all sacrificial animals that were slaughtered there are disqualified. Rav continues: We have a verse as the source for this halakha but we have forgotten which one it is... as it is stated in the verse with regard to the altar: “An altar of earth you shall make for Me, and you shall slaughter upon it your burnt offerings and your peace offerings [shelamekha]” (Exodus 20:21). Is it true that you slaughter sacrificial animals on the altar itself? No, rather, the verse indicates that one is able to slaughter the sacrificial animals on account of the altar, i.e., when the altar is complete [shalem], but not when it is lacking, i.e., damaged." (Zevachim 59a)

"And Rabbi Yoḥanan says: Both this one and that one are disqualified, i.e., all animals that were designated as offerings when the altar was in a damaged state are disqualified, even if they were not yet slaughtered... Rav holds that living animals are not permanently deferred, and Rabbi Yoḥanan holds that living animals are permanently deferred." (Zevachim 59a)

Close Reading

Our sugya is a masterclass in Talmudic methodology, interweaving detailed architectural halakha with profound theological implications. We’ll unpack three key insights: the Gemara’s rigorous dialectical structure, the transformative power of a single biblical term like "צָפוֹנָה" (tzafona), and the tension between ideal ritual functionality and absolute textual adherence.

Insight 1: The Gemara’s Dialectical Structure – A Quest for Precision

The opening discussion concerning the placement of the Kiyor (Basin) exemplifies the Gemara’s relentless pursuit of precision through a highly structured, dialectical argument. The starting point is Rabbi Yosei HaGelili’s assertion that the Basin was placed "between the Entrance Hall and the altar, extended slightly toward the south." This seemingly specific instruction immediately triggers a series of challenges from the Gemara, each designed to uncover the underlying rationale and implicit assumptions behind Rabbi Yosei HaGelili’s position.

The Gemara begins by asking, "What does Rabbi Yosei HaGelili hold?" It then proposes a series of possible scenarios for the Altar's location and challenges Rabbi Yosei HaGelili's ruling against each. First, "If he holds that the entire altar stands in the south section... let him stand the Basin anywhere from where the wall of the Sanctuary begins and southward... between the Entrance Hall and the altar." (Zevachim 59a) The Gemara’s logic here is that if the altar is entirely in the south, there's ample space to place the Basin between the Entrance Hall and the Altar without it blocking the Sanctuary's entrance. Why then the need for the Basin to be "extended slightly toward the south" and not just directly between them? This implies that direct placement would still cause an issue.

The Gemara continues, "And even if he holds that the level of sanctity of the Sanctuary and the Entrance Hall is the same... let him stand the Basin anywhere from where the wall of the Entrance Hall begins and southward..." (Zevachim 59a) This addresses a potential concern that the Basin might block the Entrance Hall, even if not the Sanctuary itself. Still, if the altar is in the south, there should be southern space available.

The Gemara then shifts its premise: "Alternatively, if Rabbi Yosei HaGelili holds that half of the altar was located in the north section... and half of it was located in the south, let him stand the Basin anywhere from where the wall of the Sanctuary begins and southward..." (Zevachim 59a) Even with a split altar, there should still be southern space. The Gemara patiently enumerates all possibilities, meticulously testing each one against Rabbi Yosei HaGelili's initial statement.

Each proposed scenario (Altar entirely south, Altar half-north/half-south) is presented as a way to fulfill the dual requirements: (1) the Basin is "between the Entrance Hall and the altar," and (2) it does not interpose between the Altar and the Sanctuary (or Entrance Hall). The Gemara consistently demonstrates that if the Altar were in the south, there would be no need for the Basin to be "extended slightly toward the south" because there would be ample space to place it directly between the Altar and Sanctuary without interposing. The fact that Rabbi Yosei HaGelili does require this southern extension forces the Gemara to conclude: "Rather, is it not due to the fact that Rabbi Yosei HaGelili holds that the entire altar stood in the north section of the Temple courtyard?" (Zevachim 59a).

This is a classic example of reductio ad absurdum in the Talmud. By systematically eliminating all other possibilities, the Gemara forces an otherwise non-obvious conclusion about the Altar's location. This conclusion then leads to further questioning: "Even if this is the case, why does Rabbi Yosei HaGelili require that the Basin be located to the south of the altar so that it is not actually in between the altar and the Sanctuary?" (Zevachim 59a). If the altar is entirely in the north, why can’t the Basin be placed to the north of the Entrance Hall, still "between the Entrance Hall and the altar" but not interposing? The Gemara is unrelenting, pushing the logic to its ultimate conclusion.

The answer, finally, comes from a pasuk, which brings us to our next insight. This structured, step-by-step elimination of possibilities, building hypothesis upon hypothesis, is a hallmark of Talmudic reasoning, designed to uncover the deepest layers of halakha embedded in the text.

Insight 2: "צָפוֹנָה" (Tzafona) – A Directional Word with Profound Halakhic Weight

The Gemara’s ultimate resolution to the puzzle of the Basin’s placement, and by extension, the Altar’s location, hinges on a single, seemingly innocuous word: "צָפוֹנָה" (tzafona), meaning "northward." The verse in Leviticus 1:11 states: "And he shall slaughter it on the side of the altar northward [tzafona]." The Gemara derives from this verse a profound halakha: "that the north section of the Temple courtyard must be vacant of all vessels, including the Basin." (Zevachim 59a)

This interpretation is revolutionary. "Northward" is not merely a directional instruction for where an animal is slaughtered; it becomes a prescriptive command for the entire northern space of the courtyard. The north must be empty of vessels. This constraint immediately explains Rabbi Yosei HaGelili’s seemingly convoluted placement of the Basin "extended slightly toward the south." If the entire Altar is in the north, and the north must be empty, then the Basin cannot be placed directly in line with the Altar's northern expanse, even if it's technically "between" the Altar and the Sanctuary. It must be pulled southward to avoid violating the "vacant north" rule.

The power of this derivation lies in its ability to transform a spatial descriptor into a foundational halakhic principle. It shows how the Torah's language is imbued with layers of meaning, where a single word can dictate the layout of the most sacred space. This also sets up a fascinating machloket (dispute) between Rabbi Yosei HaGelili and Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov. Rabbi Yosei HaGelili interprets "tzafona" to mean that the north must be vacant of vessels, implying the Altar can be there (and indeed, he holds it is entirely in the north). However, Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov takes this further: "Northward before the Lord" (Leviticus 1:11) indicates "that the north section of the Temple courtyard must be vacant of everything, and even of the altar." (Zevachim 59a). For Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov, the Altar itself cannot be in the north at all, thus he maintains the entire altar stood in the southern section.

This disagreement highlights the profound impact of midrash halakha – the rabbinic method of deriving law from biblical text. Both Tannaim are working with the same verse, "tzafona," but their interpretive lens yields drastically different conclusions about the most central object in the Temple courtyard. Rabbi Yosei HaGelili sees "tzafona" as the place of slaughter, which must be clear for the act, but not necessarily clear of the Altar itself. Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov sees "tzafona" as requiring the entire northern space to be clear, including the Altar. This showcases how the precise shade of meaning attributed to a single word can ripple through the entire halakhic system, shaping fundamental aspects of Temple architecture and ritual.

Insight 3: Tension Between Ritual Functionality and the Integrity of the Sacred Vessel

The second major section of our sugya pivots from spatial halakha to the question of ritual validity: "Rav says: In a case of an altar that was damaged, all sacrificial animals that were slaughtered there are disqualified." (Zevachim 59a) This immediately presents a tension. A damaged altar might still function physically – one could technically still place wood and burn offerings on it. Yet, Rav declares all sacrifices performed on it pasul (disqualified). Why?

Rav initially admits, "We have a verse as the source for this halakha but we have forgotten which one it is." This fascinating admission highlights that the principle was known and accepted, even if its precise textual anchor had been lost to memory. The rediscovery comes through Rav Kahana, who finds Rabbi Shimon, son of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, citing Rabbi Yishmael, son of Rabbi Yosei. The source is Exodus 20:21: "An altar of earth you shall make for Me, and you shall slaughter upon it your burnt offerings and your peace offerings [shelamekha]."

The Gemara then employs a classic derasha (exegetical interpretation): "Is it true that you slaughter sacrificial animals on the altar itself? They are slaughtered on the ground near the altar. No, rather, the verse indicates that one is able to slaughter the sacrificial animals on account of the altar, i.e., when the altar is complete [shalem], but not when it is lacking, i.e., damaged." (Zevachim 59a)

This interpretation is a powerful transformation of the verse's apparent meaning. The phrase "וזבחת עליו" (and you shall slaughter on it) is reinterpreted as "you slaughter on account of it," or "in its merit." The altar itself is not the place of slaughter, but its presence and integrity are prerequisites for the slaughter to be valid. The crucial word here is "שלמיך" (shelamekha – your peace offerings), which is homiletically linked to "שלם" (shalem – complete). This is a highly creative and non-literal reading, but it drives home a fundamental point: the integrity and completeness of the sacred vessel (the Altar) are not merely aesthetic preferences; they are halakhic requirements that enable the ritual to be effective. A damaged altar, even if physically usable, is ritually "lacking" and therefore renders offerings invalid.

This leads to a further tension between Rav and Rabbi Yochanan regarding "living animals." Rav holds that "living animals are not permanently deferred" (Zevachim 59a). This means if an altar is damaged, only sacrifices already slaughtered on it are disqualified. Unslaughtered animals designated as offerings, still living, retain their potential for holiness and can be sacrificed once the altar is repaired. Rabbi Yochanan, however, argues that "living animals are permanently deferred" (Zevachim 59a), meaning that even unslaughtered animals designated as offerings become permanently disqualified if the altar is damaged, losing their potential for sacrifice entirely.

This dispute highlights a deep conceptual difference: Does the status of the animal (its inherent sanctity as an offering) override the temporary defect of the altar? Or does the defect of the altar immediately and irrevocably impact the status of all offerings, even those not yet physically brought into contact with it? Rav emphasizes the potential of the offering, while Rabbi Yochanan emphasizes the immediate and pervasive impact of the altar's flaw on the entire sacrificial process. This tension between an object's inherent holiness and the external conditions required for its proper use is a recurring theme in halakha, particularly in the laws of kodshim (sacred offerings). The integrity of the physical instrument (the Altar) is paramount, not just for the act of sacrifice itself, but for the very validity of the animal's designation as a korban.

The Gemara’s rigorous exploration of these points, from the precise cubic measurements of altars to the subtle linguistic derivations, underscores a central theme: in the realm of kedushah, every detail is significant, and the physical state of a sacred object profoundly impacts its spiritual efficacy.

Two Angles

The sugya presents a fascinating machloket between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Yosei regarding the size of Moses's Altar and the interpretation of King Solomon's actions. This debate isn't just about historical facts; it reflects two distinct approaches to biblical interpretation and the nature of divine revelation.

The core of the dispute revolves around the verse describing Solomon's inauguration of the Temple: "because the copper altar that was before the Lord was too small to receive the burnt offering, and the meal offering, and the fat of the peace offerings" (I Kings 8:64).

Rabbi Yehuda's Angle: Literal Interpretation with a Broader Context

Rabbi Yehuda takes the verse "as they are written" (Zevachim 59a), meaning he accepts that the Temple's altar (built by Solomon) was genuinely too small to accommodate the vast number of offerings Solomon wished to bring. To support this, Rabbi Yehuda needs to demonstrate that Moses's Altar, which the verse implies was the standard against which Solomon's offerings were measured, was significantly larger than its simple description suggests. The verse in Exodus 27:1 states Moses's Altar was "Five cubits long and five cubits wide." Rabbi Yehuda, however, argues that this description, coupled with the word "Square" (Exodus 27:1), is not to be taken literally as a 5x5 cubit altar. Instead, he draws a gezeirah shavah (verbal analogy) with Ezekiel's description of a future altar, which is also called "Square" (Ezekiel 43:16).

He explains: "Just as there, in Ezekiel’s vision, he was measuring the distance in each direction from its center, so too here, the verse was measuring the altar that Moses built from its center." (Zevachim 59a). The Gemara clarifies that Ezekiel's altar, described as "twelve cubits long by twelve wide, square, to its four sides" (Ezekiel 43:16), means twelve cubits from its center in each direction, making it a total of 24x24 cubits. Applying this gezeirah shavah to Moses's Altar, Rabbi Yehuda concludes that the "five cubits by five cubits" was also measured from the center, making Moses's Altar a substantial 10x10 cubits. This makes it a very large altar. If Moses's Altar was indeed 10x10 cubits, then Solomon, sacrificing "a thousand burnt offerings" (I Kings 3:4) on it, was bringing fewer offerings per square cubit than he did on his own Temple altar. Therefore, Rabbi Yehuda's argument that Solomon's Temple altar was "too small" becomes plausible, necessitating the sanctification of the Temple courtyard itself to serve as an extended altar. Rabbi Yehuda's approach prioritizes a literal understanding of Solomon's actions and uses a sophisticated interpretive tool (gezeirah shavah) to reconcile textual descriptions and support his view.

Rabbi Yosei's Angle: Euphemism and a Focus on Inherent Sanctity

Rabbi Yosei "says well" (Zevachim 59a), meaning his counter-argument is persuasive. He challenges Rabbi Yehuda's premise by pointing out a numerical discrepancy: "A thousand burnt offerings did Solomon offer upon that altar" (I Kings 3:4) (referring to Moses's Altar), while in the Temple, "Solomon offered for the sacrifice of peace offerings... two and twenty thousand cattle and one hundred and twenty thousand sheep" (I Kings 8:63). Rabbi Yosei calculates that "when you arrive at the calculation of burnt offerings and the number of cubits... this was greater than that" (Zevachim 59a), meaning Solomon actually sacrificed more offerings per square cubit on Moses's 5x5 cubit altar than on his own Temple altar. This makes the claim that the Temple altar was "too small" difficult to accept.

Therefore, Rabbi Yosei rejects the literal interpretation of "was too small to receive." Instead, he proposes a euphemistic reading: "Rather, what is the meaning of the phrase 'because the copper altar... was too small to receive'? It is not referring to the altar built by Solomon, but rather to the copper altar built in the time of Moses, which was disqualified from use from the day of the Temple’s inauguration on. Rather than stating outright that the altar became disqualified, the verse employed a euphemism, like a person who says to his friend: So-and-so is a dwarf [nanas], and what he really means to say is that he is disqualified from performing the Temple service." (Zevachim 59a). For Rabbi Yosei, the verse subtly indicates that Moses's Altar became ritually unfit for use in the newly inaugurated Temple, rather than Solomon's Altar being physically inadequate. This interpretation preserves the inherent adequacy of the Temple's altar.

Regarding the dimensions of Moses's Altar, Rabbi Yosei maintains that "The matters in the verse are to be understood as they are written" (Exodus 27:1), meaning it was literally 5x5 cubits. He uses a gezeirah shavah to derive the height of the altar, not its width. He compares the "Square" of the outer altar (Exodus 27:1) to the "Square" of the inner incense altar (Exodus 30:2), where the incense altar's height was twice its length. Thus, he concludes Moses's Altar was 5x5 cubits wide but 10 cubits high. Rabbi Yosei's approach emphasizes the plain meaning of the text for dimensions where possible and uses interpretive tools to clarify other aspects, all while prioritizing the idea that a new, grander Temple would render older vessels "disqualified" rather than physically insufficient. His understanding reflects a sensitivity to the evolving nature of sacred space and the ritual integrity of its components.

This machloket showcases two powerful approaches to biblical interpretation: one that seeks to reconcile seemingly contradictory narratives through expansive textual analysis and derasha (Rabbi Yehuda), and another that prioritizes a more straightforward reading and employs euphemism to resolve difficulties, focusing on the ritual status of sacred objects (Rabbi Yosei). Both ultimately respect the divine word but arrive at different conclusions about the physical and ritual realities of the Temple.

Practice Implication

While we no longer have the Temple in Jerusalem, the principles embedded in this sugya profoundly shape our daily Jewish practice and decision-making, particularly concerning kedushah (holiness), hidur mitzvah (beautifying a commandment), and the integrity of ritual objects.

The Gemara's meticulous debate about the Basin's placement, dictated by the single word "צָפוֹנָה" (northward), teaches us that even seemingly minor spatial arrangements in sacred contexts carry profound halakhic weight. The requirement that the north side of the Altar be "vacant of all vessels" isn't just an architectural detail; it's a statement about the sanctity of designated space. This principle extends to our synagogues and homes today. Consider the layout of a synagogue: the placement of the Aron Kodesh (Holy Ark), the bimah (platform for Torah reading), and even the seating arrangements are not arbitrary. While not all are biblically mandated with the same rigor as the Temple, the underlying ethos is one of respect for sacred space and an understanding that certain areas are designated for specific functions, requiring a particular order and absence of clutter or interposition. For example, ensuring a clear path to the Aron Kodesh for aliyah recipients, or maintaining a sense of reverence in the area surrounding the bimah during Torah reading, reflects this ancient sensitivity to spatial kedushah. It encourages us to think about how our physical environment can either enhance or detract from our spiritual focus and connection.

Even more impactful is the discussion about the "damaged altar" and Rav's assertion that "all sacrificial animals that were slaughtered there are disqualified," derived from the interpretation of "שלמיך" (peace offerings) as requiring a "שלם" (complete) altar. This halakha establishes a critical principle: the ritual efficacy of an act of worship is fundamentally tied to the integrity of the sacred vessel through which it is performed. A damaged altar, even if physically capable of holding fire, is ritually incomplete, rendering the offerings invalid.

This principle directly informs our handling of sifrei Torah, tefillin, and mezuzot – our most sacred ritual objects today. A Sefer Torah with even a single missing or damaged letter (which can be as small as a hairline crack in the ink) is pasul (invalid) and cannot be used for public reading until repaired. Similarly, tefillin or mezuzot with textual errors or physical damage to their parchment or casings are unfit for use. The halakha is not merely concerned with legibility; it demands perfection. Just as the Altar needed to be shalem for sacrifices to be valid, these sacred texts and objects must be shalem to fulfill their mitzvah.

This translates into practical decisions: when purchasing tefillin or mezuzot, we seek out reputable sofrim (scribes) who adhere to the highest standards of perfection. When a Sefer Torah is found to have a flaw, significant communal resources are allocated for its repair. This isn't just about preserving ancient artifacts; it's about maintaining the integrity of our connection to the divine word and ensuring our performance of mitzvot is done with the utmost kedushah. The lesson from Zevachim 59 is clear: the physical perfection of the sacred vessel is not a luxury, but a prerequisite for authentic and effective spiritual service. It teaches us to approach all objects of kedushah with reverence, recognizing that their physical state reflects their spiritual potency.

Chevruta Mini

1. Tradeoff between Functionality and Textual Constraint: Rabbi Yosei HaGelili's placement of the Basin is "extended slightly toward the south" to avoid interposing, even though a more direct placement might seem more "between" the Altar and Sanctuary. This decision is driven by the halakha that the "north must be vacant of vessels." If you were tasked with designing the Temple layout, would you prioritize the most functionally efficient placement of all vessels, even if it meant a less strict interpretation of a directional word like "tzafona," or would you adhere rigidly to the textual constraint, even if it leads to a less intuitive or perhaps less "optimal" arrangement from a purely functional standpoint? What are the underlying values you'd be weighing?

2. Tradeoff between the Object's Integrity and the Act's Intention: Rav states that a "damaged altar" disqualifies all sacrifices slaughtered there, implying the physical integrity of the altar is paramount. Rabbi Yochanan goes further, arguing even living animals designated as offerings become permanently disqualified if the altar is damaged. This raises a fundamental question: When performing a mitzvah involving a sacred object, where does the emphasis lie? Is it primarily on the intent and action of the person performing the mitzvah (e.g., bringing a korban), or is it on the absolute physical perfection of the object itself (the Altar)? What are the spiritual and practical implications of each approach, particularly in modern halakha concerning sifrei Torah or tefillin?

Takeaway + Citations

This sugya on Zevachim 59 illuminates the Talmud's profound commitment to deriving intricate halakhot from subtle biblical nuances, demonstrating how the precise placement and physical integrity of sacred objects are foundational to the efficacy of divine worship.

Citations:

• Zevachim 59a: https://www.sefaria.org/Zevachim_59a
• Exodus 40:29: https://www.sefaria.org/Exodus.40.29
• Leviticus 1:11: https://www.sefaria.org/Leviticus.1.11
• Exodus 20:21: https://www.sefaria.org/Exodus.20.21
• I Kings 8:64: https://www.sefaria.org/I_Kings.8.64
• I Kings 3:4: https://www.sefaria.org/I_Kings.3.4
• I Kings 8:63: https://www.sefaria.org/I_Kings.8.63
• Exodus 27:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Exodus.27.1
• Ezekiel 43:16: https://www.sefaria.org/Ezekiel.43.16
• Exodus 30:2: https://www.sefaria.org/Exodus.30.2
• Rashi on Zevachim 59a:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Rashi_on_Zevachim.59a.1.1
• Rashi on Zevachim 59a:1:2: https://www.sefaria.org/Rashi_on_Zevachim.59a.1.2
• Steinsaltz on Zevachim 59a:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Steinsaltz_on_Zevachim.59a.1
• Rashi on Zevachim 59a:10:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Rashi_on_Zevachim.59a.10.1
• Steinsaltz on Zevachim 59a:10: https://www.sefaria.org/Steinsaltz_on_Zevachim.59a.10
• Rashi on Zevachim 59a:11:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Rashi_on_Zevachim.59a.11.1
• Tosafot on Zevachim 59a:11:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Tosafot_on_Zevachim.59a.11.1