February 1, 2017, I began a Torah study project. These words described my intention: “Today I begin a new project of looking at the weekly Torah portions, searching for insights on food, ‘animal rights,’ agriculture and ecology.”
The name of the section I created to hold my weekly notes suggested my starting assumption based on prior studies: “Ecology is the “study of interactions among organisms and their environment.” It is a study, therefore, of relationships, and one thing I’m pretty sure I’ll find again and again as I study these pages is that Torah is a study of relationships. There are three domains in Torah: Transcendence/G-d, human, the rest of creation . . . I want to look at relationships between and within those categories, Torah ecology.”
Over time my focus narrowed to the relationship between human beings and other animals. One of my key questions as I entered this stage of my study was, what rationale does the Torah provide for the superiority of human life over animal life? Because my assumption was that only a hierarchical notion of value could provide a moral basis for killing animals in sacrificial rites or for food. As so often happens in a course of study, I discovered I was asking the wrong question. What I should have asked (since I have some familiarity with Hebrew scripture) was, what compelling experience drove the constant assertion of the supreme value of human life to the extent that it became an overarching theme of scripture?
As a way of organizing my study, I used the framework of Torah portions, which initially I moved through on pace with the Jewish calendar of weekly readings. Somewhere in Numbers it became more difficult to keep up. I missed Deuteronomy during the first year — and again during the second year when I got stuck in Leviticus — but am returning to it now. Too bad! It might have brought me more quickly to the heart of the matter, but it makes no difference. It is the journey it has become, and that has been extraordinary in many ways.
Other than discovering I was asking the wrong question, here are key points in my journey:
- According to the Torah, animals, like humans, are both body (basar/carcass) and “soul” (nefesh/breath of G-d/being).
- Only one statement is made describing humans that doesn’t describe other animals: in the image of G-d (b’tzelem/image). Brown, Driver, Briggs offers the following definition/s of b’tzelem, which as nearly as I can understand it suggests a shadowy version of the body of G-d (see The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel by Benjamin D. Sommer):
- images (of tumours, mice, heathen gods)
- image, likeness (of resemblance)
- mere, empty, image, semblance (fig.)
- The Torah tells a story in which animals “begin” on an equal plane with humans — all are part of a whole system in which each has unique capabilities and all live in harmony. A serpent, like humans and unlike its fellow beasts of the field, is hairless, talks and has the ability to plan strategically. All animals, including humans, are vegan, and there is no death. The ideal vision that begins the Torah story is one in which all of creation is interdependent and creation itself is interdependent with G-d/transcendence.
- The ongoing Torah story following the third chapter of Genesis is of a real world in which humans are permitted to “use” animals even though they are required not to waste and to exercise compassion for these other beings who, like them, have souls in addition to physical bodies. Meat-eating is ringed with prohibitions, and the Israelites are chastised, sometimes sarcastically, for gluttony.
- In the vision of the Garden and in the ongoing Torah story, animals are morally accountable (evident in the Noah story).
- Periodically the underlying vision of creation surfaces as in the Ten Words/Commandments (where domestic animals also rest) or the story of Balak and Balaam (and the talking donkey, who sees what his human counterpart, a “seer,” cannot and who experiences moral indignation).
Still, I was left with nagging questions, how could a text that puts forward such an extraordinary vision of creation in its first words also put forward such a barrage of clinical detail about dissecting living beings at its center? For not only is Leviticus placed (structurally) at the center of the Torah narrative, but the Yom Kippur ritual of the two goats is at the center of the Leviticus narrative. Of course, there is the supreme value of human life, but how did a text that has a different worldview at its root (that all beings sit at the spiritual round table) arrive at that position? In addition, what was the source of the pervasive sense of sin that permeates the text of the Torah alongside the idea of the goodness and sanctity of human life?
I thought perhaps I could find some understanding if I became emotionally embedded in the text of Leviticus. Maybe I would come to understand how it could possibly be religiously or spiritually meaningful to experience the sights and aromas of terrified animals taken to and killed on an altar and dissected and burned. I read slowly and imagined deeply. I simply couldn’t get there, and on my second reading in this particular cycle of studying Torah, I had to stop. I was overwhelmed with the horror that stood behind the clinical details I read. It wasn’t a spiritual or religious experience for me, and I couldn’t grasp how it was for anyone.
After an extended hiatus, I returned to Deuteronomy to try to complete what I began, a reading of the Torah from a particular perspective. Something was missing for me in terms of understanding. I could feel it but couldn’t place my finger on it. It centered around the emotional and spiritual meaning of sacrifice, something deeper than an intellectual rationale. Why the clinical focus on sacrifice at the structural center of a text that began with the aspirational vision of Gen 1-3?
By the time of my re-entry, we were reading Re’eh (Deut. 11:26-16:17). As I read the rationale “for the harsh destruction the Israelites bring to the inhabitants of the Land and their altars: the Canaanites who preceded them performed “for their gods every abhorrent act that the Lord detests; they even offer up their sons and daughters in fire to their gods,” I realized something: “With Moloch worship (child sacrifice) in the background, animal sacrifice was a step forward in consciousness.” Reading about Moloch worship deepened my sense of shock with regard to this practice but also provided me a clue to unravel what puzzled me, what drove the intense biblical focus on the superiority of human life despite so much material that suggests another worldview.
A consistent theme in Deuteronomy is that it centralizes sacrifice, removing it from the daily life of ordinary Israelites. At first, I thought the primary effect of this might be to routinize killing animals. Then I realized another possible intention of the text: “If the Torah represents a step forward in consciousness in its vehement assertion of the superiority of human life in a context where child sacrifice is the norm . . . “ Deuteronomy might represent “another step forward in consciousness as it attempts to wean the Israelites from a dependence on a sacrificial cult and the idea that human beings can transfer their sins to another living being who pays in their place.”
Anyone who reads the Torah understands that meat-eating was allowed as a concession to the violence in human nature. The idea was to channel that violent impulse and limit killing. The important understanding I missed until I grasped the reality of Moloch worship and child sacrifice is that the concession wasn’t based on an intellectual abstraction but on a real practice that horrified segments of the population that saw it. I can’t help but think of the projects of many animal rights activists, whose work I could not do, who seek to expose horrifying practices with animals on factory farms to the general public, making the crime visible and real.
I had a professor once who told me the way to write a paper is to write it, then take the conclusion and move it to the beginning, then be certain that every paragraph that follows builds an irrefutable case leading to a repeat of the conclusion at the end. With that in mind, I’ll share here that the next step in my understanding of the biblical project came with Shofetim when I began to understand the text as both polemic and compromise “constitution.”
Shofetim returns to the Moloch theme in two passages, one direct and one indirect through use of the word “abhorrent” (to’evah), a word that occurs more frequently in Deuteronomy than in any other book of the Torah much less the Bible. We might say that Deuteronomy, in comparison to the rest of the Torah text, is obsessed with ridding the nation of “abhorrent” practices, primary among them child sacrifice:
לֹֽא־תִטַּ֥ע לְךָ֛ אֲשֵׁרָ֖ה כָּל־עֵ֑ץ אֵ֗צֶל מִזְבַּ֛ח יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ אֲשֶׁ֥ר תַּעֲשֶׂה־לָּֽךְ׃
You shall not set up a sacred post—any kind of pole beside the altar of the LORD your God that you may make—
וְלֹֽא־תָקִ֥ים לְךָ֖ מַצֵּבָ֑ה אֲשֶׁ֥ר שָׂנֵ֖א יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ׃
or erect a stone pillar; for such the LORD your God detests.
לֹא־תִזְבַּח֩ לַיהוָ֨ה אֱלֹהֶ֜יךָ שׁ֣וֹר וָשֶׂ֗ה אֲשֶׁ֨ר יִהְיֶ֥ה בוֹ֙ מ֔וּם כֹּ֖ל דָּבָ֣ר רָ֑ע כִּ֧י תוֹעֲבַ֛ת יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ הֽוּא׃
You shall not sacrifice to the LORD your God an ox or a sheep that has any defect of a serious kind, for that is abhorrent to the LORD your God.
כִּֽי־יִמָּצֵ֤א בְקִרְבְּךָ֙ בְּאַחַ֣ד שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ אֲשֶׁר־יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ נֹתֵ֣ן לָ֑ךְ אִ֣ישׁ אוֹ־אִשָּׁ֗ה אֲשֶׁ֨ר יַעֲשֶׂ֧ה אֶת־הָרַ֛ע בְּעֵינֵ֥י יְהוָֽה־אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ לַעֲבֹ֥ר בְּרִיתֽוֹ׃
If there is found among you, in one of the settlements that the LORD your God is giving you, a man or woman who has affronted the LORD your God and transgressed His covenant—
וַיֵּ֗לֶךְ וַֽיַּעֲבֹד֙ אֱלֹהִ֣ים אֲחֵרִ֔ים וַיִּשְׁתַּ֖חוּ לָהֶ֑ם וְלַשֶּׁ֣מֶשׁ ׀ א֣וֹ לַיָּרֵ֗חַ א֛וֹ לְכָל־צְבָ֥א הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם אֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹא־צִוִּֽיתִי׃
turning to the worship of other gods and bowing down to them, to the sun or the moon or any of the heavenly host, something I never commanded—
וְהֻֽגַּד־לְךָ֖ וְשָׁמָ֑עְתָּ וְדָרַשְׁתָּ֣ הֵיטֵ֔ב וְהִנֵּ֤ה אֱמֶת֙ נָכ֣וֹן הַדָּבָ֔ר נֶעֶשְׂתָ֛ה הַתּוֹעֵבָ֥ה הַזֹּ֖את בְּיִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃
and you have been informed or have learned of it, then you shall make a thorough inquiry. If it is true, the fact is established, that abhorrent thing was perpetrated in Israel,
וְהֽוֹצֵאתָ֣ אֶת־הָאִ֣ישׁ הַה֡וּא אוֹ֩ אֶת־הָאִשָּׁ֨ה הַהִ֜וא אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָ֠שׂוּ אֶת־הַדָּבָ֨ר הָרָ֤ע הַזֶּה֙ אֶל־שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ אֶת־הָאִ֕ישׁ א֖וֹ אֶת־הָאִשָּׁ֑ה וּסְקַלְתָּ֥ם בָּאֲבָנִ֖ים וָמֵֽתוּ׃
you shall take the man or the woman who did that wicked thing out to the public place, and you shall stone them, man or woman, to death.—
עַל־פִּ֣י ׀ שְׁנַ֣יִם עֵדִ֗ים א֛וֹ שְׁלֹשָׁ֥ה עֵדִ֖ים יוּמַ֣ת הַמֵּ֑ת לֹ֣א יוּמַ֔ת עַל־פִּ֖י עֵ֥ד אֶחָֽד׃
A person shall be put to death only on the testimony of two or more witnesses; he must not be put to death on the testimony of a single witness.—
יַ֣ד הָעֵדִ֞ים תִּֽהְיֶה־בּ֤וֹ בָרִאשֹׁנָה֙ לַהֲמִית֔וֹ וְיַ֥ד כָּל־הָעָ֖ם בָּאַחֲרֹנָ֑ה וּבִֽעַרְתָּ֥ הָרָ֖ע מִקִּרְבֶּֽךָ׃
Let the hands of the witnesses be the first against him to put him to death, and the hands of the rest of the people thereafter. Thus you will sweep out evil from your midst.
כִּ֤י אַתָּה֙ בָּ֣א אֶל־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ נֹתֵ֣ן לָ֑ךְ לֹֽא־תִלְמַ֣ד לַעֲשׂ֔וֹת כְּתוֹעֲבֹ֖ת הַגּוֹיִ֥ם הָהֵֽם׃
When you enter the land that the LORD your God is giving you, you shall not learn to imitate the abhorrent practices of those nations.
לֹֽא־יִמָּצֵ֣א בְךָ֔ מַעֲבִ֥יר בְּנֽוֹ־וּבִתּ֖וֹ בָּאֵ֑שׁ קֹסֵ֣ם קְסָמִ֔ים מְעוֹנֵ֥ן וּמְנַחֵ֖שׁ וּמְכַשֵּֽׁף׃
Let no one be found among you who consigns his son or daughter to the fire, or who is an augur, a soothsayer, a diviner, a sorcerer,
וְחֹבֵ֖ר חָ֑בֶר וְשֹׁאֵ֥ל אוֹב֙ וְיִדְּעֹנִ֔י וְדֹרֵ֖שׁ אֶל־הַמֵּתִֽים׃
one who casts spells, or one who consults ghosts or familiar spirits, or one who inquires of the dead.
כִּֽי־תוֹעֲבַ֥ת יְהוָ֖ה כָּל־עֹ֣שֵׂה אֵ֑לֶּה וּבִגְלַל֙ הַתּוֹעֵבֹ֣ת הָאֵ֔לֶּה יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ מוֹרִ֥ישׁ אוֹתָ֖ם מִפָּנֶֽיךָ׃
For anyone who does such things is abhorrent to the LORD, and it is because of these abhorrent things that the LORD your God is dispossessing them before you.
תָּמִ֣ים תִּֽהְיֶ֔ה עִ֖ם יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ׃
You must be wholehearted with the LORD your God.
כִּ֣י ׀ הַגּוֹיִ֣ם הָאֵ֗לֶּה אֲשֶׁ֤ר אַתָּה֙ יוֹרֵ֣שׁ אוֹתָ֔ם אֶל־מְעֹנְנִ֥ים וְאֶל־קֹסְמִ֖ים יִשְׁמָ֑עוּ וְאַתָּ֕ה לֹ֣א כֵ֔ן נָ֛תַן לְךָ֖ יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ׃
Those nations that you are about to dispossess do indeed resort to soothsayers and augurs; to you, however, the LORD your God has not assigned the like.
Scholars argue about the existence of this practice of child sacrifice, the extent of its existence in Israel and whether it is indigenous to Israelite religion or copied from surrounding cultures. The scholarly work and rabbinic traditions that confirm its existence are authoritative for me. The extent of the practice and whether or not it is indigenous to Israelite religion are not material questions from my perspective. What is material is the effect of the practice in shaping Israelite consciousness, the Torah text and other biblical books.
A Little Sourcing
Those who follow my posts know I’m not a friend of source criticism of the text and prefer to read it as a whole and unified story. I am better able to get at meanings in that way. This is one place, though, where source criticism and historical context does contribute meaning for me.
For the historical setting and provenance of the books of the Torah, in particular Deuteronomy, I’ll quote from summaries in various Wikipedia articles, first a Wikipedia article on Deuteronomy: “Presented as the words of Moses delivered before the conquest of Canaan, a broad consensus of modern scholars see its origin in traditions from Israel (the northern kingdom) brought south to the Kingdom of Judah in the wake of the Assyrian conquest of Aram (8th century BC) and then adapted to a program of nationalist reform in the time of Josiah (late 7th century BC), with the final form of the modern book emerging in the milieu of the return from the Babylonian captivity during the late 6th century BC.”
So hypothetically Deuteronomy came into its present form and location in the text in three stages: 1) 8th century northern kingdom, 2) 7th century Judah under Josiah, 3) 6th century post-exilic Judah.
It seems to me that Deuteronomy shares themes with J (the Jahwist) who provides Gen 2, a key part of what I have called the aspirational vision of Gen 1-3: “Michael D. Coogan suggests three recurring themes in the Jahwist tradition: the relationship between humans and soil, separation between humans and God, and progressive human corruption.” Conversely the Priestly text shares themes and motifs with the Elohist of Gen 1, most obvious to me the ritualized nature of the creation process.
The Wikipedia article on the Jahwist indicates 7th century Judah as the earliest possible date (and historical context) for the work: “. . . a crucial 1976 study by H. H. Schmid, Der sogenannte Jahwist (“The So-called Jahwist”), argued that J knew the prophetic books of the 8th and 7th centuries BCE, while the prophets did not know the traditions of the Torah, meaning J could not be earlier than the 7th century.A number of current theories place J even later, in the exilic and/or post-exilic period (6th–5th centuries BCE).
. . . The modern scholarly consensus is that the Torah has multiple authors and that its composition took place over centuries.This contemporary common hypothesis among biblical scholars states that the first major comprehensive draft of the Pentateuch was composed in the late 7th or the 6th century BCE (the Jahwist source), and that this was later expanded by the addition of various narratives and laws (the Priestly source) into a work very like the one existing today . . .
. . . According to Jewish tradition, Torah was recompiled by prophet Ezra during Second Temple period,and he recited it to the assembled Israelites in order to enforce the observance of Torah.
In short, this leads to a very general hypothesis that several streams of Torah traditions emerged during the 8th to 7th, even 6th, centuries bce. Another Wikipedia article on the Deuteronomist diagrams the geographical and timeline links between J and the Deuteronomist with a northern kingdom point of origin that transferred to the southern kingdom during and after the Assyrian conquest.
In any case, these traditions were formulated into a “unified” document (i.e., redacted with additional creative material) during the 6th to possibly even the 5th centuries bce. Some scholars propose that this creative redaction occurred after 538 when Persia not only authorized a return to the Land from the first (Babylonian) exile but hypothetically mandated a constitution of sorts that would allow the returnees to form a unified nation. This possibility suggests Persian, therefore Zoroastrian, influence on the final redaction.
Back to Shofetim
And this brings me to my point. As difficult as it is for Americans to understand, who are weaned on separation of church and state and who generally view sacred scriptures as “religious” or “spiritual” documents, the biblical text is as much political as it is religious. There were many voices in ancient Israel just as there are today in, for example, the United States. In stressful times, those voices are sometimes more diverse and strident — and sometimes more unified. A historical time period that witnesses a civil war (between northern Israel and southern Judah), two national destructions, first of the Northern Kingdom, then of the Southern Kingdom, a local exile from north to south, a national exile and a painful and difficult return to reestablish a nation, is nothing if not stressful. The Torah reflects those stresses and a diversity of voices woven together into an extraordinarily unified text that served far beyond its hypothetical original purpose of building a unified nation.
In the contemporary study of religions, we say that religions are embedded in culture, time and place, and culture, time and place are embedded in religions. This means there is change over time or they would not be relevant to future generations — and there are inherent contradictions. Religions are not static. This fluidity and richness with all its complexity, depth, and contradiction is in evidence in the Torah story. It is what makes the Torah story relevant more than two-and-a-half millennia later.
So as I again came to this theme in Deuteronomy of abhorrent practices and, in particular, child sacrifice, the thought occurred to me that the entire Torah story, indeed the entire Bible, is first, polemic, and second, political compromise. My hypothesis became clear to me through my increasingly narrow focus on the relationship between humans and animals. This view of Hebrew scripture, that it is both polemic and political compromise, is the missing piece for me and is explanatory.
A hypothesis is just that: an idea about what something might be. And now I’ll need to go back once again and review the evidence of the text, examine if that’s really where it leads. But first, I’ll point to a couple of details in addition to the Moloch material that brought me to this hypothesis.
In documents that frequently use chiasm as a literary structure, priestly material and, in particular, animal sacrifice have pride of place in the Torah story, at the center. Or do they? Deuteronomy and compatible material in Gen 2, along with some Priestly material that complements it in Gen 1, envelopes the story. Deuteronomy coming last among the five books points toward a different future, much like the function of II Chronicles at the end of Hebrew scripture and Malachi at the end of the Old Testament. In regard to animals and animal sacrifice, it seems related to the worldview of Gen 2, beginning to apply that idea of the interrelatedness of all of creation and the value of all life in the real world through compromise steps. That would make the chiastic arrangement of material one example of a compromise between different traditions as they are woven into a whole.
Deuteronomy rails against the abhorrent practices (toevot), primary among them child sacrifice, at the very least known, tolerated and even recognized to be effective, in other portions of the biblical text. Whether or not child sacrifice was inherently part of Israelite tradition or was imitative, at some point, it was part of Israelite religious culture, and significant portions of the text refute it vigorously and consistently. It is refuted not only in the strong words of Deuteronomy but in the basic and overriding message of the entire text, the sanctity of human life. It is as if there is a basic Torah instinct that recognizes all life is precious — but the reality of child sacrifice is so critical that it requires a massive and comprehensive reaction that includes a hierarchy of value in regard to life and replacing human sacrifice with animal sacrifice and its corollary, meat-eating. The sanctity of human life is one theme of the text that provides an overarching unity to it.
Shofetim ties the practice of human sacrifice, child sacrifice in particular, to expulsion from the land/soil of Israel. Continued presence in that space depends on expelling that and related evils from the community — and the entire community must participate in removing it through stoning the guilty human being/s.
Finally, the one characteristic attributed to humans that differentiates them from animals and thereby provides the rationale for human superiority is that they are “in the image” of G-d. As the vocabulary shows, this was a shadowy idea, and it’s completely unclear to me what that means — but from my perspective the most obvious meaning flows from an idea of G-d with a body. Deuteronomy rejects this notion unequivocally, saying G-d has no body, and this became the dominant voice in rabbinic Judaism. Logically that rejection sweeps away a rationale for valuing human life on a higher level.
So the polemic behind the biblical text is that in its overall thematic thrust and structure, it vehemently rejects the notion of human sacrifice through a variety of mechanisms, including valuing human life over all other life. This polemic explains sufficiently for me how animal sacrifice became central to Israelite religion, at least as the Torah story tells it. It also portrays vividly how religious cultures change with time and situation.
And this brings me to the politics behind the text. In Re’eh, I noted with regard to the centralization of sacrifice theme that it desacralized Israelite daily life. On the one hand, that concentrated power and wealth in the hands of a priestly aristocracy in Jerusalem. It had another important effect, though, and that was to diminish reliance on priests and a sacrificial system in Israel generally.
Change happens slowly over time, but I believe that had the Temple not been destroyed by the Romans, animal sacrifice would have disappeared eventually anyway. The destruction only hastened the process the Deuteronomist put in motion. This is the power of acculturation. Was it a Deuteronomist plan as they worked out the compromise that included a system of animal sacrifice at the heart of the text? I think so. As animal sacrifice was in the center of the text literarily, it also moved geographically and physically to the center of the land, making it inaccessible and increasingly irrelevant in the daily lives of Israelites.
The structure of the Torah story, the way common and diverse motifs and voices are woven together, reveals a common impulse among most of the leading voices in ancient Israel, a polemic against human sacrifice. It is a polemic that overlays another strand of thought, that all life is equally precious, all is animated with a soul, the breath of G-d. But life is never simple, and moving forward toward the aspirational vision of justice and harmony throughout creation happens in small steps involving fierce political struggles to arrive at a compromise represented in the very structure of the Torah story.
Of course another possibility is that the strand of thought that has all creatures at the spiritual round table was not indigenous to the text but was influenced by Zoroastrianism. In this scenario, it would have been back-edited into the text by the redactors along with the version of the Binding of Isaac story that we have in which Abraham is prevented from sacrificing his son. This possibility would be consistent with a Deuteronomist who so vehemently opposed child sacrifice, constructed a program to desacralize Israelite life and marginalize the priestly sacrificial system — and, I think, ultimately get rid of it.
If everyone who could testify directly to the meaning of the Constitution of the United States disappeared from the earth, and beings from outer space arrived on our planet and discovered the document — they would study the document deeply to understand what it said and what motivated its composition. They would see the shards of the struggle with a historical circumstance that resulted in an intense emphasis on individual liberty and rights. Although they might be puzzled by the amendments, they might also catch in them a glimpse of the same theme from somewhat different positions in history. Ultimately the grandeur of the concept and its expression would move them in their own time and place even as they struggled to understand the specifics and apparent conflicts.
That is our position today with regard to ancient Israel. Behind the American Constitution is a polemic. The Constitution is a lofty document that represents a compromise between the voices speaking at the time of its composition with amendments as history progresses and situations change. Most importantly, The Constitution is a process, not a static document, and in the same way, the Bible is a process which those who read it are invited to continue today.
And now that I have finally arrived at a point of answering some questions I have about the text with regard to the relationship between humans and animals, it’s time to begin. I am reminded of the story about Rabbi Hillel when asked to explain Judaism while standing on one foot. He said, “That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the commentary. Go and study it.” (דעלך סני לחברך לא תעביד. זו היא כל התורה כולה, ואידך פירושה הוא: זיל גמור) – Babylonian Talmud, tractate Shabbat 31a