Daf Yomi · Zionism & Modern Israel · On-Ramp

Zevachim 70

On-RampZionism & Modern IsraelNovember 23, 2025

Hook

We live in a world that constantly demands clarity, yet often thrives on ambiguity. For a people rooted in ancient texts and now charged with building a modern state, this tension is particularly acute. How do we draw lines—between sacred and mundane, permitted and forbidden, clean and impure—while maintaining an open heart for complexity and an unwavering commitment to justice? The Talmud, in its meticulous dissection of law, offers us a masterclass not just in answers, but in the very process of navigating such intricate dilemmas. It’s a process that mirrors the ongoing, hopeful, and often challenging work of shaping a vibrant, responsible Israel today.

Text Snapshot

The Gemara on Zevachim 70 grapples with the ritual purity of animal fats and carcasses, specifically distinguishing between a tereifa (an animal with a fatal defect) and a neveila (a carcass that died without proper ritual slaughter), and their relation to kosher and non-kosher species.

The Sages taught: When the verse: "And the fat of a carcass, and the fat of a tereifa, may be used for any other service" (Leviticus 7:24) teaches that such fat is pure, the verse speaks of the forbidden fat of a kosher animal.

The baraita challenges: Do you say that the verse speaks of the forbidden fat of a kosher animal, or perhaps does it only speak of the forbidden fat of a non-kosher animal?

You may say in response: The Torah renders a slaughtered animal pure of the impurity of a carcass due to the fact that it was ritually slaughtered. And likewise the Torah renders the forbidden fat of a carcass pure, due to the fact that it is forbidden fat. Therefore, the two cases are comparable: Just as when the Torah renders a slaughtered animal pure due to the fact that it was slaughtered, it is referring only to a kosher animal and not to a non-kosher animal, which is impure even when ritually slaughtered, so too, when the Torah renders forbidden fat pure due to the fact that it is forbidden fat, it is referring only to a kosher animal and not to a non-kosher animal.

Context

Date

The Babylonian Talmud, compiled by the Amoraim from the 3rd to 6th centuries CE, captures centuries of rabbinic debate and legal development, building upon the Mishnah. This particular passage is part of that vast enterprise, reflecting generations of intellectual rigor.

Actors

The primary actors are the Sages of the Talmud, including prominent figures like Abaye, Rava, Rabbi Meir, and Rabbi Yehuda, who engage in intricate textual analysis and dialectical reasoning. Their discussions are often preserved through the voices of later Amoraim reporting earlier baraitot (Tannaitic traditions not included in the Mishnah).

Aim

The fundamental aim is to meticulously establish Halakha (Jewish law) through rigorous interpretation of biblical verses, logical deduction, and comparison of cases. In this specific passage, the goal is to define the precise conditions under which animal fat or carcasses impart ritual impurity (tumah), with far-reaching implications for sacrificial law, kashrut, and priestly purity.

Two Readings

The seemingly arcane discussion in Zevachim 70 about the impurity of animal fat offers profound insights into the foundational questions of identity, boundary-setting, and responsibility that are central to the Zionist project and the ongoing evolution of modern Israel. We can approach this text through two interconnected lenses: one focused on the internal coherence of a covenantal people, and the other on the practical implications of those definitions for a diverse civic society.

Reading 1: The Halakhic Precision of Defining Boundaries (Covenantal & Internal Coherence)

The Gemara's intricate debate over the ritual status of various animal fats and carcasses is a testament to Judaism's relentless pursuit of precision in defining its world according to divine law. The Sages meticulously parse every word of the biblical text, asking "why is this word necessary?" or "what does this phrase exclude?" This isn't mere academic exercise; it's the very architecture of a covenantal people defining its existence, its permitted actions, and its understanding of holiness and purity.

Consider the detailed distinctions made in our text:

  • Kosher vs. Non-kosher: The baraita explicitly debates whether the verse referring to "fat of a carcass" speaks of kosher or non-kosher animals. The resolution hinges on comparing the halakha of fat to that of a slaughtered animal: just as slaughter purifies kosher animals from carcass impurity, so too the verse about fat refers to kosher fat. This establishes a fundamental internal category. As Rashi on Zevachim 70a:1:1 explains, the phrase "but you shall in no way eat of it" (Leviticus 7:24) specifically refers to the forbidden fat (cheilev) of kosher animals, reinforcing that the mitzvah of using fat for service, while not eating it, applies within the kosher framework. This isn't about universal application but about internal consistency within the covenant.
  • Tereifa vs. Neveila vs. Healthy: The Gemara laboriously differentiates between a tereifa (an animal with a fatal defect but potentially ritually slaughtered), a neveila (an animal that died without ritual slaughter), and a healthy animal. Each has distinct halakhic implications for consumption, benefit, and impurity. The text notes that "a non-kosher animal never had a kosher period, whereas a tereifa had a kosher period." This highlights the significance of an animal's potential status, even if its current state is forbidden. This mirrors the complex lineage of the Jewish people, always considering our origins and potential.
  • Forbidden Consumption vs. Permitted Benefit: A recurring theme is whether something forbidden for eating can still be used for benefit (e.g., selling the fat for other uses). This nuanced distinction allows for a practical engagement with the world while maintaining ritual boundaries. It’s not simply "all or nothing," but a carefully calibrated system of engagement.

This intense focus on precise definition and internal coherence is deeply resonant with the Zionist project. Just as the Sages sought to establish the boundaries of purity and impurity for the Am Yisrael (People of Israel) under the covenant, so too early Zionists grappled with defining "who is a Jew" in a modern, secular context, or "what constitutes Jewish land," or "what is the character of a Jewish state." These are not abstract questions; they are the very bedrock upon which a collective identity is built. The Gemara teaches us that building a strong spine requires meticulous internal reflection, consistent application of principles, and a deep understanding of our own sources and traditions. It's about establishing the internal logic that allows a people to define itself and maintain its unique character across generations.

Reading 2: The Practical Implications for a Collective (Civic & Social Responsibility)

While the first reading emphasizes internal coherence, the second focuses on the external impact and societal implications of these meticulously defined categories. The Talmudic discourse, particularly its presentation of differing rabbinic opinions and their consequences, provides a framework for understanding the challenges of building a shared civic space in modern Israel.

The debate between Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Yehuda is particularly instructive. They interpret the same biblical word "tereifa" differently, leading to divergent halakhot regarding the impurity of a bird carcass (Zevachim 70a). Rabbi Meir holds that a slaughtered tereifa bird does not impart impurity, while Rabbi Yehuda maintains that it does. This isn't just a theological disagreement; it has concrete implications for kohanim (priests), ritual practices, and daily life. Steinsaltz on Zevachim 70a:10 highlights this: "Rabbi Meir, who holds that the slaughter of a tereifa bird removes it from the category of impurity... what does he do with this word 'tereifa'? We answer: It is needed to exclude a non-sacred bird slaughtered inside [the Temple courtyard], which does not impart impurity, even though it is forbidden to eat." This demonstrates how even within rabbinic consensus, different interpretations lead to distinct practical applications, shaping the boundaries of the permissible and the forbidden in the public sphere.

This pluralism of interpretation, even on fundamental matters, resonates strongly with the realities of modern Israel:

  • Religious Pluralism in the Public Square: Just as Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Yehuda offered distinct halakhic approaches, Israeli society grapples with diverse interpretations of Judaism—and indeed, of secularism and other faiths—in its public life. Issues like kashrut in public institutions, Shabbat observance, or the definition of marriage are direct descendants of these ancient debates over how to apply religious law in a collective setting. How do the "purity" standards of one group affect the "purity" or access of another?
  • Defining Inclusion and Exclusion: The Gemara's discussion of the "carcass of a non-kosher bird" not imparting impurity (Rabbi Meir's view, Zevachim 70a) versus "carcasses of non-kosher animals" generally being impure (Rava's clarification, Zevachim 70b) illustrates how even among non-kosher entities, distinctions are made regarding their impact on ritual purity. In a modern state, this translates to questions about the rights and responsibilities of different citizen groups, particularly minorities. How do we define who is "in" and who is "out" of certain social or legal categories, and what are the implications for their civic "purity" (i.e., their full participation and equality)?
  • The Weight of Ritual Acts: The dilemma posed by Rabbi Yirmeya concerning "breaking the neck of a goat" (analogous to the heifer whose neck is broken, a ritual act of atonement) and its impurity status (Zevachim 70b) shows how specific ritual acts (like atonement) can override or alter general rules of impurity. This highlights the power of religious ceremony to shape legal outcomes. In contemporary Israel, this translates to the ongoing tension between the secular legal system and the authority of religious courts or halakhic norms in areas like personal status, conversion, and even military service exemptions. The "descent to a hard valley" (Deuteronomy 21:4) as the point that renders the heifer forbidden, as cited by Rabbi Yannai, demonstrates how specific physical actions can trigger profound legal and spiritual consequences, reminding us that abstract legal concepts have concrete, lived impacts on people and communities.

This reading emphasizes that while a people needs a strong internal identity, it must also engage compassionately and practically with the diverse realities of its citizens. The Talmudic method of weighing competing arguments, identifying underlying principles, and acknowledging the real-world impact of legal distinctions provides a powerful model for the ongoing civic dialogue required to build a just and equitable Israel for all its inhabitants. It pushes us to maintain an open heart, recognizing that different "readings" of foundational texts and values will always exist, and that responsible governance requires navigating these differences with both integrity and empathy.

Civic Move

To engage with the profound lessons of Zevachim 70 in a modern Israeli context, I propose a facilitated "Halakhic Case Study" exercise:

Action: Choose a contemporary socio-political issue in Israel that involves a tension between distinct values or groups (e.g., kashrut in public spaces, Shabbat observance in specific localities, the recognition of different streams of Judaism, or the rights of non-Jewish citizens in a Jewish state).

  1. Map the "Readings": Identify at least two distinct "readings" or arguments concerning this issue, much like the Gemara presents Rabbi Meir's and Rabbi Yehuda's interpretations, or the baraita's two "ways" of interpreting the verse. For each reading, articulate the underlying principle or value it prioritizes (e.g., national religious identity, individual liberty, civic equality, democratic values).
  2. Identify "Boundaries": Pinpoint where each reading draws its "halakhic" or societal boundaries. What does it include, and what does it exclude? What are the practical implications of these boundaries for different communities or individuals?
  3. Trace the "Consequences": Reflect on the "purity" and "impurity" (or benefit/detriment) that result from each reading's implementation. Who benefits, and who is disadvantaged? What kind of society does each reading envision or create?
  4. Propose a "Civic Move": Drawing on the Talmudic spirit of reasoned debate and the pursuit of justice, brainstorm one concrete action or policy adjustment that seeks to reconcile the competing readings, acknowledge complexity, and foster a more inclusive and responsible society. This isn't about choosing one "right" answer, but about finding a path forward that honors diverse perspectives while strengthening the collective good.

This exercise encourages participants to apply the rigorous analytical framework of the Talmud to contemporary challenges, fostering both intellectual depth and empathetic engagement, aligning a strong spine of tradition with an open heart for the future.

Takeaway

The ancient debates of Zevachim 70, in their relentless pursuit of truth through textual precision and logical argumentation, offer us a timeless model for navigating complexity. They teach us that defining who we are, what we value, and how we live together is an ongoing, often contentious, but ultimately generative process. For modern Israel, a nation both rooted in covenant and committed to civic responsibility, this Talmudic spirit is indispensable. It calls us to engage with our traditions with integrity, to debate our differences with respect, and to build a future where the meticulous care for every detail of our collective life serves the highest ideals of justice, compassion, and peoplehood. The work of drawing wise boundaries, with both a strong spine and an open heart, is the enduring legacy of our past and the hopeful promise of our future.